


Junkless

by EarthOddity67



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Agender Castiel, Angst, Baby Angels, Blood, Body Modification, Boypussy, But he doesn't know he's pregnant, Childbirth, Clueless Castiel, Confused Dean, Cunnilingus, Dean is a jerk, Death, Discussion of Abortion, Discussion of Adoption, Drunk Sam, Drunk behaviour, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fights, Genderbending, Greek Goddess, Healing, Hurt Castiel, It leads to misunderstandings, It's a shock for all., Kidnapping, Labour Complications, Lack of Communication, Loss of Virginity, Male Lactation, Mpreg, Not Beta Read, Past Lisa Braeden/Dean Winchester, Periods, Pregnancy complications, Pregnant Castiel, Pregnant Sam, Rough Sex, Sam Is So Done, Set During Seasons 9, Smut, Timestamp, Unhealthy Relationships, Unplanned Pregnancy, Unresolved Feelings, Vaginal Sex, Worried Dean, but temporary, genderless angels, graphic birth, mentions of stillbirth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-01
Updated: 2017-09-05
Packaged: 2018-09-21 06:14:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 19
Words: 140,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9535370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EarthOddity67/pseuds/EarthOddity67
Summary: Metatron did more than just take Castiel's grace.Dean and Sam don't realise it until much later what Metatron did, and it has left them both scratching their heads, but that doesn't have to change things.Especially for Dean.This does not change anything for Dean.Right?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> January has been the most stressful month of my life. I've had exams, essays and starting school again, some of that in the same week! I've hardly had time for a breather.
> 
> This is based on season nine, but Sam was never possessed by an angel and there will be no mention of the Hell trials. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy. 
> 
> xx

When Castiel was an angel he had spent billions of years watching over humanity, from Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden to the Apocalypse that never came to be. He was meant to watch the world crumble from Lucifer and Michael’s destruction, the inevitable bloodshed between two brothers. He never thought the Winchester’s would stop it, no matter how great the sacrifices they made. But he was wrong, and humanity can live on as before.

Never in his celestial being did Cas think he would ever become human.

And what Dean was surprised about was by how little Cas knew about humanity.

 

* * *

 

 

Dean and Sam only realised this around the time Cas had his grace stolen and he became human. So did most of his angel brothers and sisters… his homicidal angel brothers and sister who have now turned human and want Cas’ head on a stick in retaliation.

That certainly made things busy for the Winchester brothers. They had spent days trying to track down their fallen friend with only sporadic phone calls and text messages to guide them, and when they did find him Cas was almost dead at the hands of April. Once Dean ganked the bitch, they took Cas home, only for him to leave again out of his guilt and innocent naivety, because Cas was determined to go find his family and repent for his sins.

But as determined as Cas was, he still hadn’t realised the limitations of his new body.

Angel Cas didn't need to eat, or sleep, or take a break once in a while, but human Cas was… well, human.

Sam had tried to talk to Cas about taking it easy, but Dean didn't think it had fully registered to him what had just happened to him. Cas knew he couldn't fly, but he thought he could walk miles without stopping. Cas knew humans had to eat, but he thought he didn't need to take a bite for sustenance. Cas knew humans had to sleep, but he thought he could last days without resting.

Maybe Cas was in denial, turning human has been one hell of a shock for him, but his stubbornness gave Dean the only choice but to wait for his inevitable crash.

Dean tried to talk to him, but it wasn’t registering to the angel — former angel — that he wasn't strong enough to go on like he used to anymore, but Cas was adamant in finding his family and making things right. Dean couldn't decide if it was from Cas’ guilt, or over his part to play in what he had done to heaven. Dean had lost count of the times he had reassured Cas that it wasn't his fault, that he was tricked and Metatron used him — it all fell on deaf ears. Cas left the Bunker, on his new mission to rectify things.

Like Dean said, he had no choice but to wait for the inevitable crash.

But Cas was still a strong-willed idiot. He lasted for three whole days before Dean got the phone call.

Cas looked awful. The moment he drove to station house he was in Dean had to stop himself from wincing. Cas must have found one of his brothers because he was sporting a very large bruised eye, some blood stains on his shirt (that, thankfully, weren't his), and a nasty scratch over his cheekbone. Even without the battle wounds, Dean still would've winced in horror ‘cause Cas looked like a horrible combination of completely exhausted and ravenous.

Cas didn't say anything when he was in the car. The only sounds Dean could hear was the constant growling of the Impala and of Cas’ stomach.

Dean shot Sam a little text before they left, so by the time they got back to the Bunker there was food prepared ready for Cas, and the spare room set out for their guest. The moment Cas saw the food on the table he was like monster, but neither of the brothers questioned it, like they didn't question it when Cas was close to passing out in his seat. The only reason he didn't end up sleeping there was because Dean almost carried him to the guest bedroom, and was out like a light before his head hit the pillow.

The next morning Dean had breakfast prepared, and a new stack of clothes ready for Cas by the time the former angel woke up. He was still wearing the bloody clothes from yesterday. The hunter got him to change into his spare pair of sweats he had folded out. and let Cas eat before Sam made his way down from his room. As much as Cas wanted to make things right with his brothers and sisters, they were way too pissed to talk to him calmly, so the Winchester decided their only option was to keep Cas in the Bunker for awhile. Until things died down and the waters settled.

It was a good thing Cas was feeling those aches and pains in his limbs because he had no choice but to accept Dean’s advice to stop and rest.

So that was how they got the angel — former angel, Dean kept forgetting — to live in the Bunker. That was a month ago now, and thing have been interesting since then.

No, that’s not it. If Dean was honest, things have been… strained.

Don’t get Dean wrong. He loved having Cas staying with them. Dean got to see more of his friend, was reassured by his constant presence, and knows Cas isn't in constant danger every minute of the day — but that doesn't mean it was easy living with him…

Yes, Cas was a considerate roommate. He cleaned up after himself, he was always polite, gave the brothers their space, helped out in the Bunker — Dean’s not saying otherwise. It’s just… You would think that Cas had years to learn about human behaviour. He was a little off on some social cues and sarcasm. Some people are, but Dean hadn’t realised until now how completely clueless Cas was.

In the first few days of Cas living with them Dean thought he was just being eccentric. Then he found out Cas didn't know what the microwave was. He could've sworn Cas jumped across the room once it dinged to life, scaring the poor guy half to death, and he didn’t calm down until Dean explained what it was.

Dean thought it was funny at first.

At first.

Then he had to tell Cas he had to change his clothes after he wore them for over a week, and he was starting to stink a little bit. Turned out Cas didn't realise there was a legitimate reason to why humans had to change clothes so often. He thought it was a curious fashion trend.

Still, Dean didn’t think much of it. Then it took Dean ten minutes to teach the angel — former angel — how to properly use a tooth brush. It turned out Cas liked to eat the toothpaste, and assumed his teeth were clean from the refreshing mint he tasted. It was funny, because Dean had thought it was odd how they were going through so many tubes of the stuff. Now he knew why…

But when it got to Cas nearly being sent to the hospital for a possible case of Salmonella poisoning, none of it seemed funny anymore.

After feeling like a burden to the brothers, Cas tried to make it up to them by trying to do something nice. He knew Dean liked pie, so he tried his hand at cooking as a peace offering to the Winchester’s. Dean had to admit the heart was there, but it was hard to accept a pie that still had pink meat and had Cas throwing up in the bathroom after he took the first slice himself.

After a night of rubbing Cas’ back and making sure he was hydrated, Dean decided he didn't want to be taking anymore risks.

He made it his mission to check on Cas every night to see how he was doing. If he didn’t, Dean would be feeling uneasy all night because Cas was way too mystified by things to be trusted being on his own. He has always been… well, Cas. Socially awkward and a little dazed by things, but this was too a whole new level. It’s just… he is…

_Oh Cas…_

But Dean had to remember Cas was new to having physical needs. He had to remember that. Once Cas learned what it was to be human, he will be okay.

But Dean missed one little problem.

Well, not problem. Just… the truth.

Why was it a problem? It wasn’t. It was a problem for Dean.

 

* * *

 

They were having a lazy day at the Bunker when they noticed it. Cas had been snappy at them the previous day and had spent most of his time cooped up in his room, claiming he didn't need Dean to watch him like he was a ticking time bomb. Dean’s better judgement decided against checking on him that night in fear that Cas might bite his head off, but he made his way down to breakfast. Although, Dean noticed he didn't touch the eggs and bacon he made for him. He didn't speak much at all — not that Cas was much of a talker, but for him to not say anything was a bit unusual. He merely grunted at Dean when he said good morning, but Dean shrugged it off. He was too hungry to notice what was wrong at first.

Dean wolfed his plate of bacon, eggs, sausage, and more eggs down like there was no tomorrow. Sure, Sam gave him a disgusted shake of his head from behind the newspaper, but Dean didn't care. He gave his brother a goofy smile, mouth still full and grotesque, but his brother’s grossed out expression was worth it. Dean turned to judge Cas’ reaction, but his laughter died off when he really looked at the former angel closely.

Cas’ food was still untouched in front of him, and he was sitting stock still. His eyes were glassy, and unfocused, and aimed at the table, but Dean doubted he was actually seeing it. His plump lips were in a hard line like he was trying to hold himself back from throwing up.

Dean swallowed his mouthful, and leaned forward. Cas had gone pale. Sickly pale. Dean could see Cas was trying to fight off whatever was bothering him because he was starting to sweat and sway in his seat, even though he wasn't moving. Occasionally, he would close his eyes and take a deep breath to try and compose himself, but it did little good. No matter what happened, Cas still looked…

There’s no point in sugar-coating it; Cas looked terrible.

“Cas?” Dean asked.

“Yes, Dean?” Cas mumbled. Dean noted how Cas’ response was a little delayed than it usually was. Cas would have an answer ready as soon as possible, but Dean doubted his mental faculties were working properly.

“Are you okay?” Dean asked.

Cas closed his eyes and swallowed before answering. “I’m fine.”

Dean huffed. “Really? ‘Cause you look greener than Gamora from Guardians of the Galaxy.”

The only response he got was Cas’ signature ‘I have no idea what you just said’ look.

Sam shook his head at Dean. “He means you look green from nausea.” Sam glanced up at Cas with a grin, but his expression dropped when he saw what Dean was talking about. “And I think he’s right. Are you feeling ill?”

Cas took a deep breath and answered. “If you want an honest answer, Sam… no. I do not feel well.”

“What is it? A stomach ache? Flu?” Sam was instantly concerned, leaning forward to check on him. The close proximity made Cas flinch back into his seat, swatting Sam’s hand away.

“I am not sure. I just feel… I need to use the restroom.”

Cas got up from the chair, holding onto the table for support, and Dean swore he saw Cas’ legs shake. Immediately, Dean went to his side, offering a hand to give him support, and it looked like Cas needed it. He swayed into his side, Dean put his arm around him to keep him standing. Cas gripped onto Dean’s elbow, his skin turning an even greener colour of nausea. “Whoa, whoa, take it easy. Cas? Cas, are you —”

Before Dean had a chance to finish, Sam interrupted. His eyes were wide, and horror-stricken, and looking straight at the former angel. “Wait, is that blood?!”

Following Sam’s line of sight, Dean glanced down at Cas’ sweats and blanched. At the front of the light fabric there was a a growing red stain, darkening by the second.

Dean tightened his clutch on Cas as he stared down at the bleed. “Cas, what the hell—”

“Dean, I feel sick,” Cas groaned.

Cas was asking for help, but Dean couldn't move. It was Sam who had to intervene, in warrior mode, taking hold of Cas before he fell to the floor.

 

* * *

 

 

“I don’t need to go to the hospital,” Cas complained.

The former angel was sitting on the edge of the bath tub, leaning his temple against the wall. He was lolling his head, turning to the direction of whichever brother was fussing over him. It was Sam this time. Dean didn’t know how to help, so he leaned against the doorway, letting his little brother take the role as mother hen.

“Cas, you are bleeding. We need to make sure it’s nothing serious.”

“It isn't.”

“Then let us see,” Sam pleaded.

“No.”

Sam huffed. He knew Cas wasn't going to budge for him, so he turned to Dean, silently asking for help. Dean didn't know how he was going to make much of a difference, but he tried, anyway. “Cas, we are only doing this because we are concerned —”

“And I am fine,” Cas affirmed.

“You’re bleeding out of your pants. That’s not normal.”

Cas squirmed in embarrassment. “Dean…”

“Cas, please,” Dean said softer than before, more understanding. “Let us know you are okay.”

Dean didn't like putting Cas on the spot, and he especially didn't like the discomfort that flickered over his friends face. Then he remembered his pale complexion from earlier, his sickly skin green from whatever was bothering him, and Dean knew he had to push his feelings of guilt aside. He had to make sure Cas was okay. “Please?”

The moment he saw Cas’ resolve begin to wear down, Dean knew he was getting somewhere. By the second, Cas became less fidgety where he sat, and when he looked up at Dean, he wasn't so reluctant anymore. “Do I have to take my pants off?”

It was Sam’s turn to step in. “I have to see where the blood is coming from.”

“I don’t want to take them off,” Cas muttered.

“But we still need to stop the bleeding,” Sam answered. “If we don’t you’ll pass out.”

Cas bit his lip worryingly. “But I know where it’s coming from…”

It was Dean who intervened this time. He merely believed Cas was suffering from a little bit of body anxiety, and smiled at the former angel to make his feel at ease. “Cas, I know — this is embarrassing. You got people staring at you like you’re a lab rat, but me and Sam are not gonna judge. We are all guys here. There’s nothing you have that we haven't seen before.”

That was the wrong thing to say, apparently, because Cas immediately bottled up. If he had the flexibility to do it, Cas would've curled up into a a ball and hid away from the world. He kept his eyes away from the brothers, and stared at his hands as he whispered. “We’re not.”

Dean gave a curious glance over at Sam, but he seemed just as mystified. Sam cocked his head to the side as he looked back as Cas. “Not what?”

Cas took a deep breath, letting some of the tension in his shoulders out with a long exhale. “All guys here.”

Sam gave Dean an odd look before dropping his crossed arms and taking a seat next to Cas on the rim of the tub. “Cas, do you want one of us to leave the room?”

“No, but…” Cas hesitated. At this point, embarrassment and shyness seemed to radiate from him. “Can Dean not look?”

“What? Why do I have to turn away?” Dean protested, but Sam gave him a stern look. It was Cas’ expression that convinced Dean to comply though. That guy looked so sorry for himself, and the combination of his sickly pale skin just seemed to enhance his puppy dog eyes look even more. It was all it took to make Dean follow in Cas’ request.

“Fine,” he sighed and turned to face the white painted wall like an indignant child getting a time out. “Happy, mom?”

“Grow up, Dean,” Sam sighed, but Dean could detect some amusement in his tone. “Cas, will you let me see now?”

Obviously, Dean couldn't see what was going on, so all he had to rely on was running commentary and background noise to help paint the picture for him. Sam’s gentle encouragements were accompanied with Cas’ bare feet sticking onto the tiled floor when he stood up and moved around. “If you can pull down your pants…”

Dean didn't hear any protest from Cas, but the ruffling of clothing told him Cas was doing what he was told.

Sam huffed. “Your underwear too, Cas.”

Dean tried to hide the smile on his face when Cas whined loudly. He knew this wasn't a picnic, but it had to be done. He just never knew how much of a prude Cas was about nudity. Didn’t he see Adam and Eve walking around butt naked an eternity ago? Where did this self-conscious thing come from?

Anyway, he didn't complain further. Dean heard the sound of the elastic around Cas’ underwear, and the fabric running down his legs. Dean waited for the moment where Sam said something, told Cas that it wasn't a big deal after all, or tell him he did a great job. But there was nothing.

It was completely silent.

After a few seconds that felt way too long there was still nothing. Dean didn't think he could hear either Sam or Cas breathing from where he stood, and fear was beginning to creep up at him, and he had to fight the urge to turn around to see what was going on. He was just about to say something when finally somebody spoke.

“Okay.” Dean was worried by how high pitched Sam sounded, and that only happens when he is completely caught off-guard. That hardly happens. That never happens. What the hell is happening? “Okay, this is fine. It’s fine, this is completely…um, how long have you… been like this?”

“Since I became human,” Cas replied in a small voice.

Sam cleared his voice, trying to sound less freaked out. “So you didn't have… that before?”

 _That?_ Dean thought. _What’s what? What’s ‘that’?_

Dean couldn't stay quiet. “Sammy, what’s going on?”

“Not yet, Dean,” Sam said quickly before talking back to Cas. “Tell me, how long have you been feeling sick?”

“Last night. It got worse this morning, though.”

“Once you started bleeding?”

Dean didn't hear a response, but he assumed Cas nodded because Sam kept talking.

“Why didn't you tell us?” Sam said in a gentle tone.

“I didn’t want to concern you or Dean. I thought it would go away, like the last time.”

“No, I meant the…wait? So this has happened before?”

“Once, but it wasn't as bad as it is now.”

“Cas, we could’ve helped.”

“I didn’t want to talk about it,” Cas replied with his tone dripping with shame.

Okay, Dean couldn’t take it anymore. “Guys, what are you talking about?”

“Dean, can you go outside for a minute?”

“Not until I know what is happening.”

“I’ll tell you in a minute but, while I see to Cas, I need you to go to his room and get him a clean set of clothes.”

“But —”

“Just do it, Dean,” Sam said firmly.

Dean didn't argue any further. Sam only got stern like that when he needed Dean to do what he said without question, so he bottled up his worry and went for the door.

_Okay, what the fuck? What is going on?_

Dean didn't know what the hell was happening, but he did as he was told. He went to Cas’ room, and rummaged through his drawers to find whatever looked comfortable enough for him to wear. When Cas went human on them, Dean had to take him on a shopping spree once his suit was out of commission, so it was time for Cas to add a few other items to his wardrobe. Dean wasn’t prepared for how apathetic Cas was to the whole thing. Cas doesn't really care about fashion and would agree to anything Dean suggested for him, so in the end Dean gave up asking for his opinion and just bought whatever he thought would suit him. Looking back on it, Dean thinks he just chose mostly his own style and hoped Cas would like it too.

Not that he told him that. Or Sam. Or anyone else.

Instead of a regular outfit, Dean pulled out a clean pair of sweats, fresh underwear, and even threw in a pair of socks too. While he was rummaging through the drawers, Dean was hoping to find a pair of sweats that Cas had worn a lot of since Dean took him shopping. They were light grey and baggy, perfect for lounging around the Bunker in and great for Cas as he recuperated, but for some reason they were no where to be found. It suddenly dawned on Dean that he hadn't seen Cas wearing them in a while, either. That was unusual. Cas loved them, and Dean hadn't seen them in the laundry pile lately. Maybe he had misplaced them somewhere. He’ll ask him later.

By the time he made it back to the bathroom, Sam was standing in the hallway. He was pacing back and forth, looking absolutely freaked out, and it made Dean’s stomach drop. Sam never panics like that. Not ever, not openly anyway, and Dean knew something was definitely wrong.

“Sam,” Dean barked. “What is it? Is Cas okay?”

Sam wasn't exactly coherent at that moment. He kept opening and closing his mouth like a gaping fish, and blinking rapidly at Dean. “I, uh, just, um — _Oh, my God!_ ”

“God dammit, Sam, what is wrong with him?! Is he dying?”

That was able to snap Sam out of it a little. “No, no — not dying, it’s, um…”

“It’s what?”

Sam was about to speak, but all that came out was a stuttering laugh. “I can’t believe I’m saying this…”

“It’s what?” Dean demanded.

Sam made a face, stalling for as long as he could before he finally blurted it out. “His time of the month.”

Dean raised an eyebrow in confusion. “His what?”

“You know… that time of the month.”

Dean stared at his brother with a blank expression. Sam groaned in reluctance. He was going to have to explain.

“Dean, if Cas was a… _woman_ , and he started _bleeding_ and _feeling sick_ …”

“Yeah?”

“Every month…” Sam emphasised, hoping Dean would get it.

Dean had absolutely no idea what the fuck his brother was talking about. Dean was just about to say something until suddenly it all clicked into place, like that last piece of a jigsaw puzzle that suddenly made the picture complete.

A crazy, weird jigsaw… What the hell?

The bleeding, Cas’ nausea…

_Oh God._

“You’re joking,” Dean said.

Sam shook his head. “Nope.”

_Bleeding… feeling sick…_

“You’re serious.”

Sam nodded. “Yep.”

_Every month…_

“But…” Dean didn't know what else he was going to say. His mind had gone blank, and he didn't think he could get his brain to respond to the littlest things, especially when he needed it to be working. He ended up spouting out the first thing that popped into his head. “That makes no sense.”

“Well, I saw it. It makes sense… _there,_ ” Sam countered.

Dean didn't know what Sam was talking about until he remembered the earlier conversation in the bathroom, when he had to look away.

_So you didn't have… that before?_

Was _that_ a —

No.

No way.

“Are you saying… Cas is a girl?” Dean asked, completely dumbfounded.

Sam made a face. “Not exactly.”

“How is it not exactly?!” Dean snapped, harsher than he intended for it to be.

“I didn’t put him through an interrogation, Dean!” Sam shot back. “He didn't want to talk, he couldn't look me in the eye ‘cause he was so humiliated! Do you really think I would've put him through twenty questions? He needed a friend, not a cop.”

Dean was ready to get into another screaming match. The rising anger in him was close to making that happen, but Sam’s word had a sobering affect. He was right. Cas didn't need an interrogation. Dean took a deep breath and closed his eyes to calm himself down.

“How is he?” Dean asked.

“Bad. I ran him a bath and gave him some aspirin, but he’s still a little out of it.”

Dean nodded. “Can I talk to him?”

“I don’t think he’s in the talking mood. Like I said, he’s really embarrassed.”

“Fine.” Dean wasn't happy about that, but there wasn't anything he could do.

“Anyway, I’m borrowing the car for awhile. I won’t be long,” Sam said, and he began to walk away.

That grabbed Dean’s attention. “Wait, where are you going?!”

“To the store. It’s not like we have any spare sanitary towels laying about.”

No, they did not. Dean didn't want to think too long about that thought, even if the idea of seeing his Sasquatch of a brother looming over the feminine hygiene product aisle did threaten to raise a snigger out of him, but now is not one of his best moods. When Sam was no longer in sight, Dean remembered the clothes he had in his hand and knocked on the bathroom door.

“Hey, Cas,” Dean said through the door. He leaned down and placed the pile by the door. He doubted Cas wanted him to barge in, and Dean wasn't sure he was ready to see Cas in all his glory either. “I got some clean stuff from you. Let me know when you’re feeling better, okay?”

Cas didn't reply, but Dean didn’t expect him to. Dean didn't know what else to do at that moment, so he left Cas alone.

 

* * *

 

 

Sam was true to his word. He wasn’t more than thirty minutes at the nearest convenience store with a bag full of bright and flowery decorated packs of Kotex (because apparently all girls _love_ flowers and pink), a heating pad and a bar of chocolate to Dean’s confusion. Sam had gone on many rounds for Jess in college, and knew exactly what to get for a girl when she was feeling down during her period. It surprised Dean how indifferent Sam was when talking about stuff like that. He even went over the benefit of pads or tampons like it was no big deal. It’s like they were talking about the friggin weather judging by how calm Sam was about it.

But Dean? Dean was freaking the hell out.

Looking at all the stuff Sam bought, Dean doesn't think he’s ever held one of those things in his life. He’s never even talked to a girl about her private matters. Not even with Lisa, and they had been together for a whole year. Don’t get Dean wrong. He’s not squeamish, far from it. It’s just something that has never been brought up before.

He could deal with chopping off vampire heads and Leviathan ectoplasm, but period talk? Nope. Nada. No way.

_Wow, I sound like a douche._

When Sam announced he was going to check on Cas, Dean took the bag and told Sam he would do it instead. Yeah, he might not be Mr. Sensitive with this stuff, but Dean wanted to actually help Cas, and since this morning, all he has achieved is standing around like a paper weight. It was wrong to feel this way, but Dean was a little jealous of how Sam was the one who was taking care of Cas, how he feels like he should be the one doing this — it even bugged Dean, after the fact, that Cas asked Dean to turn away and confided in Sam more. It didn't make sense for him to feel like that. Sam is Cas’ friend too, but Cas is a closer friend to Dean than the younger Winchester is. Heck, even Cas said so with that ‘profound bond’ shit.

Not that Dean cared or anything.

He just wants to help Cas.

Like a friend.

That’s all.

Dean was on his way to the bathroom when he saw that the door was open, and Cas was no where in sight. The clothes were gone and the steam still hung in the air, so Cas hasn't been out of there long. If he wasn't in there then the only place Dean could think Cas would be was in his room. One knock on the door and peering inside told Dean that he was right.

Cas was dressed in the clothes Dean laid out for him, and he was curled up on his right side on the bed. He was facing away from Dean when the hunter walked in. “Cas, I thought you would tell me when you were out of the tub.”

It was awhile before the former angel spoke. It was no higher than a whisper. “You said to let you know when I was feeling better.”

“Yeah?”

Cas grimaced, digging his face further into his pillow. “I’m not feeling better.”

That shut Dean up. Cas still didn't look too good from when they were in the bathroom, but at least the blood stained clothes were gone and the sight of him didn't send a pulse of fear through Dean’s chest. He still looked pale and clammy, but now Dean knew it wasn't from anything sinister. Not that Cas would agree with him, judging by his miserable expression.

The hunter took a seat by the side of the bed and dropped the bag by his side. Cas didn't even lift his head up to see what Dean had with him. “Um, we — Sam got you some stuff that might help you with that. Let’s see…”

The moment Dean opened up the bag was the moment Dean knew he should have left this to Sammy. His mind boggled just from looking at all the things Cas needed and…

_Oh, shit. What if he needs me to explain what this stuff is?_

That thought hit Dean like a freight train. Was he suppose to give a demonstration on how to insert a tampon? Did he have to explain the rules of using one of them without getting toxic shock? Heck, did Cas even know what a tampon is?

_Get a grip, Winchester. Man up._

“Um, you see Sam bought,” Dean shifted through the bag, and took out the first thing he grabbed. Which happened to be sanitary towels. Great. “Sam bought this stuff. This is — this is to help… catch the blood, I guess. You have to wear them every day so we don't have another accident like we had this morning, huh?”

Dean didn't know whether he was hoping Cas would agree or laugh with him. Anything would've been better than the half hearted grunt he got.

“Moving on,” Dean said, fishing through the bag again. “Sam also got… more sanitary towels. Wait, maxi overnight? You have to wear these when you’re asleep?! Wow, I am so glad I am not a woman.”

“Dean,” Cas chastised.

“Right, sorry, sorry,” Dean apologised. “Okay, so to… use these… you need to read the instructions.”

Because Dean didn't know how to use them, and there was no way in hell he was going to give Cas a guided lesson on one. And what the hell did the wings part mean?

_Where’s a Wendigo when you need one? Dean thought. That would be so much easier than talking to Cas about his period!_

Yeah, he definitely should have let Sam do this.

Dean was just about to move on to the next item when he looked up at Cas and he froze. The sight of his friend was no different from a few minutes ago: pale, sickly and down right sorry, but for some reason, Dean feels as if he is actually seeing Cas right now, and not in the superficial way. Right now, Cas looks sick, uncomfortable and, not to Dean’s surprise, ashamed. Suddenly Dean’s momentary freak out didn't matter anymore. His friend was in pain, and he desperately wanted to help.

“Cas, why didn’t you say anything?” Dean asked. When he finally said it Dean was surprised by how much he wanted to ask Cas that question. It was a weight off his shoulders just to finally utter those words.

But Cas wasn't in the mood to appease Dean. He curled in even further into himself, more than possible if it meant hiding away from Dean’s gaze. “I didn't want to bother you.”

“Cas, this isn't bothering, it’s asking for help.”

“I don’t want to talk about this, Dean,” Cas grumbled.

“Fine, we won’t, but will you tell me why you’ve been keeping the other elephant in the room a secret?”

Cas finally lifted his head off the pillow to look up at Dean with confusion. “I do not possess any elephants in this room.”

Dean frowned. “No, I mean the fact that you are…”

“Are what?” Cas cocked his head to the side.

“Come on, Cas. You know what.”

Cas shook his head. “I’m afraid I don’t. ”

“That you're a chick!” Dean blurted out.

There, he said it. Dean didn't want to sound like he was being snappy at Cas, but he wasn't getting any answers otherwise. The former angel was silent as he regarded the hunter, and Dean felt as if he scared him from talking.

Finally, Cas spoke. “I’m not the offspring of poultry, Dean —”

Dean groaned in annoyance, and gave up on subtly. “A girl! Why didn't you tell me you are a girl?!”

“I’m not.”

Dean stared at Cas like the idiot in denial he was. “The hell, Cas? We know now. That’s the reason you’re bleeding.”

Cas frowned until he looked down at his body. “Oh, you mean my vessel?”

Dean sighed. If this is how Cas was going to play it than Dean had to play along if he wanted to get some answers. “Okay. Yes, your vessel. Why didn't you tell us your vessel is now a female?”

“It was not of import.”

“How is that not of import — how is that not important? That’s kind of a fundamental thing to happen to someone’s body.”

“It is not fundamental to me.”

“Come on,” Dean frowned. “This must have messed you up a little? You lost your junk and you didn't tell anyone? That’s more of a sign of shock than anything else.”

Cas blinked up at Dean. He shuffled up the bed until he was leaning on his elbow to talk to Dean properly. “Dean, you misunderstand. I didn’t, as you say, ‘lose my junk’. I don't have junk.”

“What are you talking about?” Dean asked.

“This isn't my body, this vessel does not define who I am. I am an angel. We don’t have your definition of male and female. We are celestial beings, nothing more.”

Dean thought over what Cas said, but he was still confused. “Are you saying you are… genderless?”

“If that is how you will understand it then yes. I am genderless.”

“That can’t be completely true, I mean, you chose Jimmy as your vessel, and he is a guy.”

“And by your logic I also chose Claire as my vessel and that makes me a little girl. I didn't choose on gender, I chose on a vessel that could accommodate me. Otherwise, any inferior vessel I took would've burned up the same way Nick did with Lucifer.”

That made sense. Dean remembered the charred remains of Nick once Lucifer was done with him, and it was not a pretty sight. It was like the singed remains of a barbecue — all black and frizzled until you weren't sure what it was. “But there must be a little bit of preference in deciding? The archangels? The took male forms, and they were guys in the Bible.”

“Because that is how humanity addresses them. Why is this definition so important? I already explained this to Sam.”

“Cas, _I’m_ trying to understand,” Dean grumbled, but he gave up. He obviously wasn't getting anywhere with this conversation, he decided to address the other begging question from his ever growing pile. “When did this happen? You said in the bathroom that you have been like this since you became human.”

“That is right,” Cas replied flatly.

Dean sighed. “Cas, you need to understand. You are not genderless anymore. You're human now, and that means you are a guy or a gal. People care about that sort of thing.”

“They shouldn’t,” Cas interrupted.

“I know, but that’s how it is,” Dean murmured. “How did this happen?”

A dark look came over Cas’ expression, and he looked away from Dean’s curious gaze. “It happened just before the angels fell to earth. When Metatron took my grace he sent me back to make me watch my brothers and sister fall. There was nothing I could do to stop it, I was powerless, and before you found me at April’s I had not known the full extent of what Metatron did until I undressed to shower. That was when I realised.”

If that was when Cas had realised then that means Cas has been hiding this for almost three months. Three months! How the hell did Cas hide that for so long?

Whilst that thought did enter Dean’s mind for a brief second, another thought popped in that took his attention. “Didn’t you have sex with April?”

Cas raised an eyebrow at Dean’s abrupt change of topic. “Yes.”

“Well, I don’t know about you, but if you were gonna get jiggy with someone, wouldn't you notice that you went junk-less when you got naked?”

“That was not how our encounter went.”

Of course not, Cas was probably the —

_Wait._

Something’s not right about that.

Having sex when you weren't naked? Sure, Dean has enjoyed the pleasure’s of clothed sex, but even then you would still notice… certain things. Certain private things that would catch someone’s eye… something about the way Cas described it isn't sitting right with Dean.

Dean cleared his throat. “Cas, how _did_ the encounter… go? I mean, what exactly did happen between you and April?”

Cas tilted his head to the side in confusion at Dean’s request, but when Dean didn't clarify, the former angel thought back to that night. “We talked, she was dressing my wounds, and she kissed me.”

“And?” Dean prompted “What, did she get naked? Did she do stuff to you?”

“She told me what she wanted me to do to her,” Cas said.

“And what did she do to you?”

It was then that Cas gave Dean a blank expression, and it immediately answered Dean’s question. The longer the silence drew out, the more Dean was certain in what actually happened that night.

“Okay,” Dean continued. “What did she tell you to do to her?”

Cas blanched, affronted by that question. “Those are private and intimate things we shouldn't be discussing over, Dean.”

Yep, Dean finally knew. “Cas, I’m gonna go out on a whim here. April told you to do things to her that were… pleasurable.”

Cas nodded. “Yes.”

“And in that time, did she do any of those pleasurable things to you?”

Cas seemed confused by that. “Not exactly…”

“And did you get any pleasure out of it?”

“I enjoyed doing the things she wanted me to do—”

“Did you get any physical pleasure out of it?” Dean asked again.

“N-not really,” Cas shook his head.

Okay, now for the clincher. “Cas? Did April perform any sex acts on you?”

Cas brought his mouth to a thing line and looked away from Dean. “No.”

_Wow, April, just… wow._

“So basically April used you as her own breathing sex toy.”

That made Cas even more confused with Dean. “What?”

“Cas, I hate to break this to you,” Dean said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You are still a blushing virgin.”

“That’s disappointing,” Cas grumbled.

“Yeah,” Dean agreed. “Look on the bright side. At least you didn't lose your virginity to a woman who tried to kill you. You can take comfort in that at least.”

Cas didn't seem too upset by that. He shrugged it off and looked inside the forgotten bag, inspect every item in it with picture perfect neutrality that put Dean’s previous freak out to shame. At least the conversation has calmed him down now. Maybe he can finally talk to Cas about this stuff now.

“How do I use these?” Cas asked.

Never mind. Dean's freaking out again. “Like I said. Instructions.”

There was nothing more said after that, and Dean was ready for this conversation to be over if they were going back to the topic of… personal things, but luckily, Cas got up from the bed and went to the ensuite with the pads. Dean took that as his excuse to leave, and just as he was about to put his hand on the door handle, there was another thought that crossed his mind.

“Oh, Cas? If gender isn't such a big deal to you angels, why did Metatron change you?”

“I do not know.”

“Come on, he must have said something? He can’t have just done this out of the blue?”

Cas shrugged. “All Metatron said to me was that once I was fixed I can live my life to the fullest.”

“Live your life to the fullest?”

“He said he wanted me to find a wife and have children, and when I return to heaven I must ‘tell him my story’.”

Okay… that made no sense, but Cas seemed just as mystified and confused, so they weren't going to get the answer to Metatron’s motives. It was best to leave it alone. Besides, they were done with the conversation, and Cas looked ready to fall asleep once he was done in the bathroom with his new… things. Dean closed the door behind him, and went back to his brother.

Of course, Sam was alive with questions that neither Dean, nor Cas could answer, leaving them both a little peeved by it. He explained what Metatron told Cas when he changed him, but even he didn't know what he meant. There were a lot of things that didn't make sense about what Metatron did — heck, everything about today made no fucking sense! It’s been one bizarre day that was more than Dean could handle. He was getting a headache, for crying out loud. They were meant to have the day off, and now this?

If Dean didn't know that Gabriel was dead he would assume today was just one long trick at Dean’s expense.

 

* * *

 

 

Later that night Cas didn't come down for dinner, so Dean went up to check on him. Dean assumed he might still be feeling a little ill, but he brought a plate of sandwiches up just in case Cas was a little hungry. When he opened the door, the former angel was fast asleep on the bed.

He was looking much better now in his sleep. Some of the colour had gotten back to his cheeks and he didn't have a permanent grimace anymore. In fact, Dean had to admit he looked peaceful when he slept. It was almost as if he was younger than he looked. Or how his vessel looked. Fas made that distinction quite clear.

Dean placed the plate by his bedside table. Cas could eat them later when he woke up, and Dean want to disturb him. He had a rough go at it today, so Dean doubted he will see him until tomorrow morning. He tiptoed out, making sure he didn't wake Cas.

Dean had just made it to the door when he turned around to check on Cas. That was when he noticed it.

There was something hidden under the bed.

Curious, Dean tiptoed over to grab it. He hadn't seen it there earlier, but his mind was a little preoccupied to take in the subtle details. When Dean opened the bag, he was confused by what he saw. There were clothes, some were already worn, but some other fabrics that looked like towels and bedsheets. Then he recognised the light grey fabric of one and lifted it out to confirm what it was.

They were Cas’ sweatpants. His favourite ones. They were chucked into the bag, along with a pair of underwear and bedsheets. Dean took them out, one by one, and he immediately saw why they were in there. The sweats had a huge bloodstain on them, right in the crotch area, along with his underwear. Dean set those aside and took out the bedsheets. There wasn't as much blood on them as the clothes, but enough to make Cas feel the need to get rid of them. The brown colour of them told Dean that they had been there for a long time.

This must have been when Cas had his first period. Three months ago.

And he stuffed the evidence in a bag.

“ _Oh, Cas…_ ” Dean pitied. He looked over at his friend one more time, the severity of Cas’ predicament finally dawning on him.

Cas is human now. He wasn't used to this, wasn't used to any of the stuff he has been forced to live through, and he was too ashamed to admit that it was happening. That he needed to eat, needed to sleep — he wouldn't even admit he was having a period, and would rather suffer in silence than ask for help. As Dean watched his friend sleep, he wondered if the when Cas did start bleeding, did he know what was happening? Did he panic? Did he think he was dying, or did he accept it like the brave soldier he was and tried to ignore it?

They were all questions Dean wanted to ask, but now? Now he was going to let Cas have his much deserved rest.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is basically smut. It gets... graphic.
> 
> This is my first time writing smut, so please be gentle with me.
> 
> Hope you enjoy.
> 
> Again, this isn't beta read so all spelling and grammar mistakes are my fault.

Here’s where it became a problem for Dean.

Things had started to mellow out between him and Cas now, ever since the truth was revealed. It was, in a way, a blessing in disguise. It wasn't as if Cas was actively trying to hide the truth from the brothers. Of course not, but since that secret is out there it seems to have opened the doors for Cas to finally talk and not hide the truth anymore. Sam encouraged it the most. He’s always been girly about his feelings. Dean, on the other hand, is harder to crack than a nutshell.

It was odd getting used to this level of honesty with Cas because, when it came to Cas being honest, there is no filter. Social cues aside, Cas doesn't understand the concept of boundaries, and would openly discuss things that still made Dean a little squeamish and uncomfortable in his seat, (there is so much Dean can discuss menstrual cramps and different types of tampons). Really, Dean never realised how much shit a women has to put up with from her own body.

But, still, Dean was grateful. How could he not be? Cas was here, he was safe, and Dean can finally help him with something after years of the former angel helping him. They could talk again, and, whilst they could ignore it, they can be friends without the worry of the outside world threatening to disrupt their peace. No monster’s, not angel crap — just time to relax and hang out.

That doesn't mean Cas is no longer a clueless Bambi, oh no. For Dean, he would describe Cas in the sense of being Bambi who is still learning to walk, and isn't going to be killed by the hunter. Or was that Bambi’s mom? Or was it the rabbit?

Dean doesn't know. Anyway, what he’s trying to say is he can leave Cas on his own for a few minutes without the incessant fear that he will somehow hurt himself. It’s almost a relief. Dean doesn't feel as if he has to worry about Cas just as much anymore. Double relief: He doesn't have to think about Cas.

Only… that’s the thing.

He can’t stop thinking about Cas.

Or, more correctly, he can’t stop thinking about Cas naked.

It’s not what you think. Dean has a perfectly rational explanation for this… He thinks.

It started not long after their little talk in his room, when he found the bloody clothes. The bedsheets and the underwear were a lost cause, but Dean had unknowingly made it his mission to get those pants clean, even if it took hours to get a smidgen of the stain off. But he did it. Dean’s hands were wrinkly and sore from the sheer effort it took for him to scrub it out, but he left the sweats to dry out over night. When Cas came down stairs the next day — he looked so much better after the nap he had — when he saw his favourite pants hanging in the kitchen, he smiled to himself and thanked Dean. It doesn't sound like much, but the gratitude in his eyes when he looked at Dean… Worth it. And Dean had to convince himself that the giddy butterflies he felt in his stomach was in no way a contribution to that factor.

And ever since then Dean couldn't look at Cas without those butterflies coursing through his entire body.

Okay, maybe saying it started then is a bit of a stretch. Sure, Dean has always had a bit of a soft spot for the angel, but that was it. There was nothing sexual or anything like attraction going on between them before. It’s just… Dean doesn't know! This has never happened to him before. Dean does not like men, he has never been remotely interested in men. He likes the ladies, he loves women more than anything, and before… he has never fantasised about another man in his life. He was not game for men — no!

Maybe that’s the problem?

Cas is not a man.

Technically, he is not a woman either, but… oh, crap. His brain doesn't seem to register the distinction. Cas had told him. He is genderless, so that doesn't make him gay. But that doesn't make him straight either. Does that make him bi? But he's not gay. You have to like guys to be bi, as well. What do you call an infatuation with a few centuries old angel who doesn't have a gender? ‘Cause Dean would like to know the answer.

_Maybe I’m freaking out over nothing,_ Dean thought. Cas has lady parts, and this all started when Dean discovered Cas had them. So that means he’s straight. Yeah, that makes sense. Cas has a vagina, and Dean likes women. So in his weird sexual interest, Cas is a woman.

…But Cas looks like a guy! He still wearing Jimmy’s meat suit, he acts like a guy, is referred to as a guy — he still has to shave, for crying out loud! Genderless or not, Cas looks and acts like a man, hence, to Dean, he is a man.

Dean’s very confused.

Until you look under his belt buckle —

No. Dean’s not going there. Nope, not at all. He is not going to entertain those thoughts.

But he has wondered.

Oh, God help him, he has wondered….

He doesn't mean for it to happen. It was just little things, things when he is around Cas that makes his mind jump to the darkest realms of his brain. They were little things at first. How Dean kept glancing up at Cas subtly because he can’t help thinking how handsome he looks that morning. How Dean notices that he’s taking more opportunities to touch his shoulder, or how the touches lingered longer than they should. What would Cas look like naked…

That was the one that caught him off guard.

After that he couldn't even look at Cas without his cheeks heating up and the blush rising from his neck. It was humiliating. It was like he was a teenager again and can’t hide his crush for the popular girl in school, but back then he didn't have trouble getting with the popular girl. But this is Cas. Genderless and, possibly, sexless angel. So he tried to be clever. Dean spent as little time around the angel as possible, he went on a hunt or two to get rid of some of the pent up tension, and tried to “take care” of his issues alone at night with a few videos online and some lube. For awhile, it worked.

But that doesn't mean he doesn't drift off sometimes. Occasionally, Cas’ face would pop up in the middle of a heated fantasy when he was jerking off, but Dean would change the picture before it got to out of control. Then Cas’ face would appear longer, he would be more… involved in the… proceedings, but Dean never let them get too far. He knew better than to entertain them for long, so he tried not to think about Cas. He tried for as long as he could.

But then the dreams happened. Holy crap, the dreams…

They were the most vivd, most erotic fantasies Dean has ever had the pleasure of watching. He couldn't believe it the first time it happened. It was like one of those dreams where you think it was actually happening, or when you wake up you get confused because you thought the dream was real and you try and get your bearings. But this? Dean had never felt more confused in his life.

His mind went to some dark places. Seriously dark. Any fantasy or porn inspired idea suddenly starred Cas in his messed up wet dream, and there was no stone left untouched in what torture they wanted to put Dean through. He thinks he’s seen every position in the Kama Sutra. How he knows that? Dean isn't sure, but his dreams do get creative.

It was always the same thing in the morning. Dean would wake up and he would either have a raging hard on or wake up in a sticky mess.

But what could he do? He can’t stop himself from dreaming. What could he do while he was in the middle of one? How could he stop himself from watching Cas in the most intimate of positions, writhing, his skin covered in sweat, and his eyes glassy as he gazed up at Dean on top of him. How could he stop himself from watching Cas making those amazing expressions when he is feeling the most amazing orgasm of his life, the moans and gasps when Dean starts to rub his crotch, or how —

_Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!_

This was driving Dean crazy. It was probably nothing. Come on, Dean’s had sexual fantasies about many of his friends before. Granted, they were all female, but the fantasies never lasted for long. They would always go away after a few days, maybe a week or two. They always go away. So far it’s been longer than his usual ones (a month), but that’s because Cas lives with him. He see’s him on a regular basis. This is just a casual, non-attractive sexual interest.

Dean can handle this. It’s probably just a crush. It will go away.

All he had to do was wait it out, and it will go away.

Right?

 

* * *

 

It was laundry day again, and it was Dean’s turn to sort those out because according to Sam’s stupid rota, it was his job of the week. Trust Sam to think a roster was the best idea to live by now that Cas had moved in, and he thought that it will make things easier to delegate tasks and, as he said, “make Dean actually get off his ass and help”. So here he is. Doing friggin laundry.

He hadn't done this since he washed the bloodstains out of Cas’ clothes, and that was only because he knew how to get them out better than Sam did. Not because he wanted to impress Cas or anything. It was a friendly thing to do, that’s all. Anyway, Cas greatly appreciated it. He was back to wearing those baggy sweats as soon as he got them back. It was a friendly thing to do. Because he is Cas’ friend and friends take care of each other.

Just friends.

That is all.

He had Cas’ stuff fresh from the dryer in his hand. Folded and ironed. He didn't have to iron. Honestly, he didn't even iron his or Sam’s clothes… ever, but Cas likes his stuff neat and organised and Dean decided it was best for him to stay away from the iron. Especially after his last attempts at doing so. Dean has the singed remains of his shirt to prove it. Anyway, Dean knocked on Cas’ door, and when he didn't reply Dean just let himself in.

“Cas?” Dean asked. There wasn't any sign of him, but there was light coming from the ensuite. He must be in there. “Hey, Cas, I’ve got some stuff for you. I’ll leave it on the drawer.”

Dean waited for Cas’ gravelly voice to answer in his usual quirky and polite manner, but it never came. He was only met with silence that felt unusual to him now.

“Cas? Are you okay?”

There was still no reply, and Dean was starting to get worried. He went over to the ensuite door and gave it a slight knock. Nothing. Dean was so concerned he didn't even consider calling out for Cas and went straight for the door knob and opened it.

The room was full of steam with the mirror fogged up, and the scent of shampoo hung in the air and standing in front of Dean was Cas. He had a towel wrapped carefully around his waist and another drying his wet hair. When he looked up at Dean, he gave him his usual smile. “Hello, Dean.”

“Cas! Hi!”

Shit. Cas is naked. No, half naked. Dean can handle half naked.

_Just don’t think about what’s under the towel. Don't think about it. Or better, don’t think at all. Don’t think. Just act cool, Winchester. Act cool._

“S-sorry, I—” Dean stuttered. He tried to keep his eyes off of Cas’ flat chest and tried to focus his attention on his face instead. He tried. “I-I called out, but you must have… not heard me.”

“No, I didn’t. The door must have muffled your voice.”

“Yeah…um, I came in to… to give you your clothes. They’re waiting for you… in there.”

“Thank you, Dean.”

Okay, Dean should leave it there. He should leave now and go back to his room and forget that just happened, and he was going to do just that. He was turning his back and grabbing the door handle so he could go, but he took one last look at Cas and he stopped. The former angel had finished drying his hair and was going straight for his clothes resting on the towel rack, but his skin was still shining with moisture. He was just about to put his shirt on when Dean had to intervene.

“Wait, Cas, you—” Dean sighed, shaking his head. “You’re meant to dry off first and then you get dressed. Here, let me do it.”

Dean took the towel from Cas’ hand, folding it out until he was holding onto both ends. He started of by extending Cas’ hands and drying off his arms from his wrist to the curves of his shoulders, making sure there wasn't a drop left on his skin.

Cas was quiet but compliant under Dean’s steady ministrations, and Dean was thankful for the silence. If he could focus on this, the less time it will take to get this done and he can get out of there before anything embarrassing happens.

By the time Dean reaches to Cas’ shoulder blades, Dean doesn't realise his hand is getting slower, or how his eyes keep flickering to the place where his shoulders and neck meet in in their graceful slope. No matter how many time Dean tried to control himself into looking away, even he wasn't strong enough to go against his own curiosity.

It got worse when Dean turned Cas around to dry his chest. The rough edges of the towel going over his lean muscles, his hard abdomen and, to Dean’s weakness, his pink nipples. When Dean ran the towel over the nubs they would harden and pebble up slightly from the course pressure the fabric, and the sight sent Dean into a hazy mood.

_Yep, this was a bad idea._

Dean shouldn't have come in here. He should've left Cas’ clothes and walked out the door. Why did he get himself into this situation?

He knew why. Of course he did. It’s all he thought about for weeks and now he was close to it like never before. Wow, he is a creep.

Dean knew he should end it there and walk away, but he finds himself kneeling down to run the towel over the exposed parts of Cas’ legs. Up his calf muscles, just under where the towel hangs over his knee caps. It was maddening, but Dean had to keep his eyes focused away from there, away from what that towel was hiding, but it was just so _hard…_

“Dean?” Cas broke Dean out of his trance, so much so that it made him jump. “You seem flushed.”

That’s it. Dean is done. He needs to get out of there now.

“I’m fine, Cas, I’m all done—”

But as Dean pulls away he accidentally catches the hem of the towel around Cas’ waist, inadvertently causing it to pool on the tiled floor.

“Shit! Sorry Cas, I…”

Dean was going to say something else, something important, but his mind went completely blank of all inconsequential things and zeroed in on what that towel was hiding.

Cas’ tanned skin was natural because there were no white lines anywhere that Dean could see. He was all lean stance, athletic muscle, and utterly exposed. A thatch of pubic hair was nestled on his crotch. Dean doubted Cas groomed down there, but it didn't matter because it was the right amount where it was natural but not overrun. Dean couldn't have imagined it better. He was never a fan of the bald look. It didn't sit right with him when the crotch was completely hairless, not at all, but this… holy crap. The right dusting of hair over the curved mound of Cas’ cunt hiding just what he had been imagining for the last few weeks…

It’s so beautiful Dean wants to cry.

Cas must not have picked up on Dean’s inner breakdown. He kneeled to pick up the towel and proceed to wrap it around his waist again. _Oh, no you fucking don’t,_ Dean thought, and his hand seized his forearm. Cas looked startled by the forceful grip, and it was only his shock that made Dean loosen his restraint. He couldn't scare Cas. That was not what this is about.

“I’m just gonna dry you here, okay?”

Dean didn't give Cas the chance to say anything before he went straight to knead the towel over Cas’ thighs. He rub the thighs in circular motions, increasingly gaining pressure until Dean was suddenly rubbing in circles on his inner thigh.

At this point, Cas was clean and dry by now, but Dean wouldn't even think about stopping now. He couldn't even if he wanted too, and he _really_ doesn't want too. He began to slow down his ministration, until it came to a steady stop and he brought the towel down with the similar one on the floor. The only thing Dean was capable of doing was stare at Cas’ entire body, taking in everything about him.

“Cas, can you open your legs up for me?”

Dean didn't even have to ask twice, or why Cas had to. He just inched his thighs apart, just as he was told. He did seem confused by Dean’s request, but didn't say anything, probably assuming Dean wasn't finished drying him. The sheer innocence of that made Dean feel like the biggest creep in the world, but he didn't care. Not now.

Because Cas’ little cunt is right there, just within reach, and Dean doesn't think he can hold back much longer. He tried,he tried for so long not to feel like this, but he doesn't even register that his hand was resting on the toned angel’s athletic thigh, or the fact it was trailing up the muscle either. Then he discovered his hand is resting on the hidden space between Cas’ legs, the space he has been dreaming about.

Dean was feeling drunk from it all. He couldn't remember how they got here, why he came into the room in the first place — all he knew was that his fingers were lingering over Cas’ cunt, back and forth over his folds, not pressing in yet, but taking his time to feel what was there. He could spend hours just watching himself do this, just for the fact that this was Cas. _Cas!_ The angel that was too far away from his reach to ever be obtainable. And now here he was. Human. Female. And open to the lowly hunter who lived on idle fantasies.

“Dean?” Cas asked uncertainly. “What are you doing?”

That broke Dean out of his trance. Just for a moment, Dean almost stopped. Although Cas’ voice pierced through to some smidgen of his sanity, it was too late.

_Ah, Fuck it._

Dean finally pushed his fingers through the folds, finally feeling more of Cas, and _holy shit_ it was better than anything Dean had experienced.

He could feel the little nub. It was right there! Dean zeroed his attention onto that little clit, rubbing his fingers over and over in small circles and the reaction was instant — And it was the best thing Dean ever did.

The moment Dean touched his clit, Cas gasped. It was quiet, barely audible, but Dean heard it. When he looked up at the former angel, Cas was watching him. Intently. Dean knew the former angel was not experienced with arousal or pleasure before, but Dean had. He recognises the dilation of the pupils, the rapid breathing, or the slight flush of arousal over your skin — Dean knew them better than anyone else, and they were playing out over Cas’ body. Cas seemed surprised by the onslaught, but he wasn't pushing Dean away or trying to stop him, but he did seem unsure of himself. It made a stab of guilt run through Dean, but it wasn't enough to drown out the undercurrent of emotion that was telling him to do this, even if he didn't know what it was exactly.

Dean knew he should put a stop to it. He even put his hand on Cas’ hip in a bid to push himself away, but he only ended up pushing Cas against the sink cabinet. Cas hands flew up to grab hold of basin and tap, and Dean realised Cas’ movements were getting clumsy. He was having trouble getting a hold of things. He was visibly affected by what Dean was doing to him, and when Cas bit his lip to hold back a moan, whatever guilt Dean was feeling went straight out the fucking window. There was something Dean had been itching to do for a very long time and with a new found confidence, Dean leaned in and licked a long line up Cas’ vulva.

The first thing Dean could taste was clean skin fresh from the shower. He licks again, dipping his tongue to the core, and suddenly his senses were flooded with the ripe flavour that was completely and definably _Cas…_

But that wasn't even the best part. The instant heat and swipes of Dean’s tongue ripped out that moan Cas was trying to hold back, the shock of it sending a shiver down his spine. He didn't even try to hold back what he was feeling this time. He gasped loudly and dropped his head back to release a long, content sigh. He let go of the tap and let his finger nails scrape over Dean’s scalp, pulling lightly at his hair, and Dean retaliated by raking his hands up Cas’ thighs until he was squeezing his plump ass. He wasn't even aware that he was doing that, wasn't aware of doing anything other than making Cas keen like a wanton little whore.

“Dean,” Cas panted out. The grip on Dean’s hair was edging on painful, like Cas was trying to pull them from the roots. If Dean found that Cas had ripped his brain out of his skull, he probably wouldn't care, probably wouldn't notice if he was being honest. His senses were in overload. Nothing outside of what Dean was doing to Cas right now mattered. He could taste him, smell him, feel him all over, but Dean wanted to be closer, experience more of him. Making Cas writhe against him every time he immersed his tongue over his clit… Dean can’t put into words how satisfying that is on a primal level.

But it’s not enough. The angle isn't great. He can’t get to the right places that will make Cas really scream. His neck is beginning to strain from the position and he doubted Cas was comfortable sitting haphazardly on the edge of the cabinet like that. No, if he wanted to do this, he was going to do it right.

Kissing his way up his thigh and abdomen until he reached his chest, Dean pulled Cas down by the back of his neck until he was smashing their lips together in an uncoordinated kiss. Cas grunted in surprise and Dean lapped it up before he grabbed hold of Cas’ knee’s and lifted him off the ground.

Dean gathered the former angel up and carried him over to his bed. He threw Cas across the covers, making Cas oomphs in the process and causing his body to bounce off the green sheets and pillows until Dean can’t take the separation any longer and is on him again. Dean took Cas’ face into his hands and tilted it back, gaining access to his mouth for his tongue to roam around and explore. Cas responded tentatively, willing for Dean to take the reins and deepen the kiss even further, letting a moan rumble from his chest.

Dean could've kissed Cas for hours if it wasn't for the incessant need to make Cas moan like that even more. Dean trailed kisses down his neck, sucking lightly at one until it was bright red, and went back to trailing down his body until his lips were hovering over Cas’ abdomen.

Curious, Dean kneeled back and took the time to actually study the body he had been fantasying about for weeks, and Dean had to admit that the reality is so much better than anything he could come up with. Jimmy had a lean body that suggested he regularly worked out. He had the muscles in his arms and the toned abs to prove it, but the scars and the battle wounds his vessel got along the way? No, those were all Cas. He could identify every single one and know exactly how Cas got them like they were ingrained into his memory. The slight scar on his chest that was from another angel attack, the cut on his face from Cas’ attempts at shaving, and the faded scar over his forearm was when Cas betrayed heaven and sent Zachariah’s ass flying. They were all there. Every single one.

Dean ran his hands down Cas’ thighs that made Cas jolt in surprise. Dean leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of his knee. He hooked his leg up, letting Cas’ cunt bloom open for him again and Dean nearly keened at the sight: Cas laying naked for Dean, his cunt flushed pink and glistening from arousal. All because of Dean.

Dean traces his hand over the velvety lips. They were practically drenched from Dean’s attention in the bathroom, but there was also the lingering scent of Cas’ arousal he could still taste in his mouth, and he wanted so desperately to go back down on him. Not yet. There was something else.

Cas’ eyes were closed. His expression was one of pure bliss from Dean’s hand lingering on his crotch. Dean let his thumb run circles over his clit and he smiled when Cas released a content moan. It was the most satisfied he had ever seen Cas, and Dean couldn't help but be smug about it. Oh, no…

“You don’t want me to stop, do you?” Dean asked. He almost surprised himself with how hoarse his voice had suddenly gotten.

Cas’ eyes fluttered up directly at Dean. He didn't say anything, but he began to curl in on himself in the same way he always did when he was embarrassed. Dean wasn't going to let him hide away now.

“Don’t be shy, Cas,” Dean said. “I want you to tell me what you want. What do you want me to do?”

Dean knows he isn't being fair on Cas to make him say these things, nor circling his clit in faster patterns, but he couldn't give a damn about being fair now. He wanted Cas mindless to his body’s new whims and open to whatever Dean had to give him, but that didn't mean he wouldn't give Cas a choice. There was no way in hell he would continue if Cas told him no right now, but God, he hoped he won’t say that…

He didn't have to worry. If Dean thought his voice was hoarse, Cas was a whole other story. Every syllable dripped with embarrassment. “Um… that — that thing you d-did… with your tongue…”

“You liked that?” Dean smiled. “Do you want me to do it again?”

Cas nodded, biting down lightly on his fist. His eyes nearly went into the back of his skull as his body shuddered when Dean got the perfect angle over the hood of Cas’ clit. He kept his fingers on that spot until Cas was arching his back off the bed, and he groaned loudly.

Dean wasn't going to make it that easy for him. “Tell me, Cas. I want you to tell me what you want. Come on…”

Cas whined. From embarrassment or from pleasure? Dean couldn't tell, but it got him a result. “I want you to do it again.”

Dean acted coy. “Do what? You need to be more specific.”

Okay, Dean was really being cruel now, but he wanted to hear it. Wanted Cas to say it. Say what he wanted, say what he wanted Dean to do to him, that he wanted Dean…

When Cas looked up at him, more confused than anything, Dean realised maybe Cas didn't know what those words were. Before he could realise the implications that might have, Dean gave Cas a helping hand. “You want me to go down on your little cunt? Tell me you want me to.”

The words and Dean’s hand were making Cas flush a beautiful shade of red. His hands went immediately over his eyes and he took a deep breath, before exhaling it out and releasing some of the tension in his muscles. He didn't say anything for a long time. Dean began to worry. Just as he was about to think that he had put Cas through this too fast, Cas finally began to speak.

“Dean, I want — I want you to…”

Dean held his breath with every nerve in his body alive in anticipation.

Cas took another breath and finally huffed out. “I want you to go down on my little cunt.”

That was the best thing Dean has ever heard, and he was not going to hold back anymore.

“Grab your leg,” Dean commanded.

Cas did as he was told. He hooked his hand underneath his left leg and held himself open to Dean’s illicit gaze. Grabbing the hems of his shirt, Dean yanked it off as fast as he could before rushing back to Cas’ cunt. He licked a long line from his mound down to his ass, before going back to his clit. Dean’s nose was nuzzled up into Cas’ pubic hair. The scent of him was filling his nostrils and Dean could swear the smell was making him drunk from everything that was Cas. His taste, his scent, his body… He didn't care about coordination anymore. Technique was out the fucking window the moment Dean let his tongue swirl over his cherry red clit, and Cas almost screamed at the contact.

Dean’s hand shot up to cover Cas’ mouth. Sam’s room was on the other end of the Bunker, but sound does carry through the hallways. The last thing he needed was his baby brother to overhear them and begin asking awkward questions, or worse, try to stop them. Cas got the hint and tried to bite back the noises he wanted to make, but that didn’t make a difference. Every gasp and moan Cas made was out of his mouth before Cas knew it, still muffled from Dean’s hand.

Cas turned his head to the side. He caught Dean’s index finger in his mouth and sucked on it all the way down to the second knuckle. Dean’s finger was enveloped in the wet heat, the soft pad of his tonguing bathing the digit completely. Dean never expected Cas to take a bold move like that. When Dean looked up he was met with image of Cas’ lips around his finger, his eyes closed shut, and moving back and forth… he’s humming quickly, mewling around the digit like he was sucking on a cock. Oh God — Dean can’t help but imagine that pretty face when Dean teaches him how to suck on his cock, and it dawns on him that that might be a reality. His fantasies see to be coming true lately. Why not this one.

Maybe another time. He didn't want to push Cas into too much. His pink tongue saturating the digit and experimenting with what feels good. Dean never stops once on his attentions to Cas’ cunt, and his moans would vibrate deep down into Dean’s bones. It was beautiful to hear those noises coming from Cas, and Dean realises how weird it wasn't to hear those masculine sounds from him. He thought it would freak him out, but it hasn't. It’s having the opposite affect, and Dean wants to hear more.

Cas’ whines when Dean pulls his finger out of his mouth, but it turns into a yelp when Dean brings it to his nipple and pinches it. Hard. And he doesn't let out. Dean holds with a vice grip between his finger and thumb, causing Cas to squirm underneath Dean.

“Dean, that hurts. Ow!” Cas complains. “De— Ah! Oh. _Oh…._ ”

Dean felt some mercy and released his nipple, only to replace it with his mouth. His hand continued to play with his clit, but he wanted Cas’ petal pink nipples in his mouth _right now_. He soothed the abused area with his tongue and sucking lightly, and the enthusiastic grunt he gets tells Dean he is on the right track. And those noises grow even more desperate the more Dean lavishes that area.

Cas has sensitive nipples. Dean is defiantly going to remember that.

Cas lets go of his leg and brought it up to Dean’s hair. He pulls on the strands again but not a rough as before. It’s still a strong grip, but more to keep Dean in place than rip his hair out. The other hand snaked his way over Dean’s shoulders, down his arm, his chest, his abdomen, and to Dean crotch.

Dean was so caught up in what he was doing to Cas to realise he was still wearing his jeans. Cas’ hand was cupping the bulging fabric, and pulling a wheeze out of him. Yeah, jeans weren't the most comfortable. He popped open the button and pulled down his zipper, and free his dick from his confines and sighing over Cas nipple.

Dean turns his attentions to the neglected nipple, but this time raking his teeth over it. It pebbled up like a stone, and an animalistic urge in Dean told him to bite down, and he was too weak to refuse. Cas wailed from the sting, his grip in Dean’ hair uncomfortably tight, and he kept making unhappy noises. He tried to push Dean away with his free hand, but Dean was stronger than him now. Dean can stand his own against a powerless Cas, and it worried him slightly how much that was a turn on.

In the end, he let go of the bitten nub. Dean moved back to admire his work — both nipples looked bright red and a little tender from Dean’s treatment, with the bite marks still apparent on the one he just let go, and it was amazing how disheveled Cas looked. His hair was a shaggy mess from tossing his head back on the damp pillow, his bottom lip was a nice plump red from where he had been digging his teeth into it, and the surprised lust in his eyes was almost what did it for Dean. He wanted him now. He wanted to fuck him so badly. So much.

Dean flipped Cas onto his front. Cas huffed at being manhandled and tried to look over his shoulder at Dean, but he couldn't see him from the angle. Dean was shimmying down to the small of Cas’ back, licking a long strip up the curve of his spine and kissing each bump until he was at the back of Cas’ neck.

Cas breathes a content sigh at the feel of Dean pressed against him, but the position for Dean was doing way more than he expected. His dick was right up against Cas’ ass. Right against the full globes of his cheeks, and when Cas took the opportunity to roll his hips against his pelvis, Dean’s jaw slacked open in a silent moan, his forehead resting against the back of Cas’ still damp hair smelling of green apple. He shivered from the stimulation on his dick, the sweltering heat of Cas’ skin, and he was reaching that stage where it was all too much.

Dean can’t take it anymore. He needs Cas _now._

“Hmm… I wanna fuck you, Cas,” Dean whispered reverently in his ear. “Please, please, lemme fuck you.”

Cas stiffened underneath him with his hands making fists in the sheets. He lifts his head from the pillow, trying to get Dean’s attention from the awkward angle he is in. Dean helps him by wrapping his hand around his throat, guiding him on where to look. They could only manage Cas twisting enough where their mouths are an inch away. Dean could feel his hot breath against his face.

“Want me to fuck you?” Dean asked, rolling his hips against Cas’ ass. “Want me to make you feel good?”

Dean’s words were having their desired affect because a shiver went down Cas’ spine, and his eyes roll back into his skull a little bit. Dean ran his thumb over Cas’ lip, waiting for his response. Cas looked up at Dean again and gave a slight nod.

“Yeah?” Dean asked. Cas nodded again. “Yes or no, Cas?”

“Yes,” Cas whispered.

“You want me to fuck you?”

Cas whimpered whilst biting his lip. “I want you to fuck me.”

Dean trembled at his words. He tilted Cas up until Dean was smashing his lips against his in a heated kiss. He didn't even give Cas time to adjust to that before Dean was off him. Dean pushed down his jeans and socks down his legs and threw them across the room. If they broke something in the process, Dean doesn't fucking care. He was fully naked with a fully naked Cas underneath him. The former angel was on his elbows, looking back at Dean and finally seeing what he was like in all his glory. And from what Dean saw, Cas seemed very impressed. And very worried when his eyes fell down to his dick.

Dean ran a soothing hand over Cas’ shoulders and pushing him flat on the bed again. He kissed Cas between the shoulder blades before leaning over Cas’ long stretched back. Dean enveloped the smaller man and mouthed at his neck, tasting the little beads of sweat that began to collect there. Grabbing hold of his dick, Dean positioned it against Cas’ opening.

Cas startled against the foreign touch, wriggling under the hunters weight. “Dean?”

Without a second thought, Dean pushes in ever so slowly.

“ _Dean_!”

Holy fuck, it is _bliss…_

Dean’s mouth drops open, and he exhales a long groan against Cas’ shoulder blade. Dean has slept with many women before, but he doesn't remember them ever being as tight as Cas, or just as hot. It was like an oasis he didn't know he longed for. The spring for the dying man, the land for the drowning. Dean nudges in a little further, the heat sucking him in further and Dean lets a long moan rumble from his chest into Cas’ neck. It was glorious.

All his fantasies, all his dreams…

Nothing could compare…  
  
But with every inch that stretched around his cock, the more Cas trembled underneath him. With a dawning realisation, Dean remembers that Cas has never done this before. He looks up to see Cas’ pinched brow and fists in the bedsheets. His knuckles were almost white from the effort he gripped into them, and when Dean went deeper, a pained whine escaped from Cas’ tight lips.

That stopped Dean completely. He dropped his head between Cas’ shoulders, letting the tense muscles force him to remember that he had to go slow, had to make this good for Cas too, no matter how much his body was screaming at him to pound into the lithe body underneath him.

When Cas’ shoulders began to relax little by little, Dean bucked inside Cas further and further, letting Cas’ moans guide him on when he needed to stop. There’s the odd wince here and there, his eyes clenched shut, and when Dean pressed in a little further the former angel cried out in discomfort.

“Shh… it’s okay. It’s okay, Cas.”

Dean did everything he could to soothe Cas. He peppered kisses across his cheek and waited for Cas to tell him when he was ready. Every time Dean would sink in to the call of Cas’ body, following him like a lovelorn idiot until he was completely flushed against Cas’ hips.

Once Dean is fully sheathed inside of Cas, he had to still himself, because the feeling was too fucking much. Cas’ cunt is clutching Dean’s cock, the heat melting him from the inside, and sending illicit thrills up his spine. He mouths at the exposed patch of Cas’ neck, lavishing it with hunger and running his hands over his sides — anything to distract him from the incessant urge to fuck Cas hard. But he had to wait. Cas is still too tense, still unsure about this. He wants to make this good for him, and he will. He just needed to push away his own need…

With a long exhale, Cas tilts his neck to the side, giving Dean more to kiss. Dean takes the opportunity to suck and nibble, letting a sadistic part of him bite lightly at the abused skin. Not hard. Just enough to leave an impression of his teeth. Cas tried to flinch away from the sting of the bite, and Dean dragged his tongue along the wound to soothe the pain away.

Sliding his hands until they are cupping Cas’ clenched fists, Dean rocks his hips. Back and forth. Slow and steady. He can’t go too fast, Cas isn't ready for fast…

But slow and steady soon turns into Dean thrusting harder than he intended. It was becoming difficult to keep his thoughts rational when all he could feel is Cas clenched around him, making punched out gasps in that beautiful mix of pleasure and pain. The force of each thrust had his body jolting forward on the bed. Cas begins to push his hips back against every one of Dean’s thrusts. Each rock and smack of their hips together makes the most obscene sounds ever and combined with Cas’ soft cries, Dean has never experienced anything better.

He wasn't expecting Cas to twist his torso to the side, grab onto the back of Dean’s neck and pull him in until their noses were smashed up together. It’s an awkward, and it must be uncomfortable, but that doesn't stop Cas from tilting his chin up until they’re locking lips. Dean couldn't hold back groaning into his mouth. To help ease Cas from the uncomfortable position, Dean falls to his side, with Cas held tight to him, until they are practically spooning each other. It seems to work because Cas sighs gratefully against his mouth and grasps at Dean’s hips to carry on his steady rhythm of thrusting in and out.

To Dean’s surprise, he finds himself liking this position a lot more. Cas’ moans were calmer. Less frantic and no longer in distress. He had more freedom to move around and didn't feel more like he was caged to the bed — Dean should've seen that, but even he felt more at ease with Cas. They continued to kiss lazily for now. There was no need to rush, even if Dean’s skin was thrumming from the anticipation, but it wasn't enough to outweigh his desire to listen to Cas moan, to taste his mouth. Right now, he had all the time in the world.

Dean let his hands glide down Cas’ chest. One hand went back to tweaking his nipples, running his nails lightly over it, while the other found it’s way back to Cas’ clit. Cas responded with an appreciative sigh, almost going limp and supple under his fingertips. Whilst he loves hearing Cas soft and pliant like this in his arms, Dean was a bit disappointed that he couldn't see those feelings flicker across his face. He wants to see Cas. He wants to see Cas lose it completely.

Dean pulls out slowly and lays back on the bed. He palms at Cas’ waist, flipping him over until he is laying on top of the hunter. He stares down at Dean, wide eyed and curious, malleable and obedient when Dean tells him to sit up on his pelvis, his strong thighs straddling him.

Dean was wrong. This was his favourite position.

The view from down here was _much_ better.

Cas in this light looked magnificent with his tanned skin, and his dilated eyes even darker — you can barely see the blue in them anymore, and with how ruffled his hair is and how swollen his bottom lip is from where he kept biting it — he looked thoroughly fucked. Dean’s teeth impressions were still embedded in his neck, and his nipples still red and raw from their earlier abuse, and it sent another thrill through Dean, just by seeing his handy work. And he wasn't even done yet. Not even close.

Grabbing hold of Cas’ hip with one hand and his cock with the other, Dean lifts Cas up until he was hovering over the mushroom tip, and gradually pushed him down until Dean was inside the searing heat again. He couldn't take his eyes away. The sight of his thick girth stretching the pink rim was almost too much for him to bear. He doubted he could've turned away if it was. It was downright pornographic and such a power trip. With every inch that sucked Dean’s cock in, the more the realisation hit that Dean was fucking an angel, he’s inside an _angel_ , and holy hell it was glorious.

But Cas’ teeth clenched hiss broke him out of it. He glanced up only to find Cas’ pinched up expression and his body tense from the burn, the same way as earlier, and Dean remembers that Cas isn't an angel anymore. He’s human. And he’s feeling pain. There was more of Dean to take in this position than it was when Cas was on his front, so he was feeling the stretch even more.

Dean eased up on the pressure he was putting on his hips to give Cas a breather, but the air was knocked out of his lungs when Cas forced himself further onto Dean’s cock. No matter how much it hurt, the former angel took in every inch until he was finally sitting on his lap with Dean balls deep inside him.

Dean’s eyes nearly rolled into the back of his skull as he dug his head into the pillow. Holy hell, this was better than Dean could ever dream about. This made his fantasies seem like PG thirteen flicks. Cas’ finger tips were clawing into his abdominal muscles, probably going to leave crescent shaped marks, but Dean didn't think he cares. The moment Cas impaled himself fully on Dean practically threw his head back and wailed. His chest heaved with every gasp of air, his body trembling from the shock of it all. Even when in so much pain he tried to move, and that made Dean grab hold of Cas again and forced him to stay still.

“Whoa, easy, Cas, easy,” Dean soothed, his voice suddenly deeper than before. “Take it easy. There’ no need to rush. Take your time.”

To help soothe his distressed friend, Dean ran his hands over the expanse of Cas’ skin from his chest, to his shoulders, his waist — anywhere he could reach. He brought his hand up to Cas neck and deciding to keep it there when Cas leaned into the touch, the wince softening across his features. He slowly began to open his eyes, and Dean realises they're red rimed. He ran his thumb over Cas’ cheek and it was wet — tears. Cas was crying, and just as Dean was about to move away, Cas turned his head to the side, catching Dean’s thumb in his mouth and began to lightly suck on it, his tongue swirling around and coating the appendage with enough slick as possible.

The longer Cas sucked it, the more his body began to loosen up. The tension began to ease from his shoulders and the nails no longer bit into his skin. The wince in his features slowly began to fade away and Cas looked calm as he sucked on Dean’s thumb. With every minute that went by, the more Dean got antsy. He was desperate to move, to finally fuck Cas senseless. He couldn't take it anymore and thrusted up into the angel, causing him to bounce up on his cock and he yelped. More in surprise than pain. Either way, it wouldn't have stopped Dean’s satisfied groan at the tingle it created up his spine.

Suddenly, Cas’ released Dean’s thumb with a loud pop. He snaked his hands over Dean’s and, before he knew it, Dean was being pinned down by the side of his head, the former angel looming over him from just a hair’s breadth away.

“Ca —” Dean began to say, but then Cas slammed his lips against Dean’s, shutting him up entirely. Before his brain could register what was happening, Cas’ tongue slipped in between his lips until it was a fight between battling tongues and clacking teeth with so much force Dean wouldn't be too surprised if his lips turned purple from bruises. It was a battle to keep up with Cas, no matter how messy it was and how much he tried to take control. He ended up submitting to Cas more by the second.

By the time Cas finally broke the kiss, him and Dean were both panting heavily. They stared at each other wide eyed for a few seconds, but Dean thinks that was mostly him. He never thought Cas had the gall to do that. He was impressed, and a little more turned on than he already is.

Cas’ cheeks were a delicious pink all over and he panted as he stared down at Dean. “I learned that from the babysitter.”

_What?_ Dean thought, until he finally remembered.

_Ah, yes… the pizza man and the babysitter._

He didn't give that movie enough credit.

If Cas got only the kiss from the movie than what else did he learn?

And that was when Dean got some inspiration.

“What else did she do, Cas? Show me. I want to see it.”

There was a flash of determination in Cas’ eyes, and he nodded. He straightened up and let go of Dean’s hands. He ran them through his hair messily and took a deep breath before resting his hands on Dean’s chest and began to swivel his hips.

It took Cas a bit of time for him to get comfortable with the motion, but when he did he did not hold back. He began to ride Dean. Really ride him. He picked up more from that porno than Dean realised because Cas fucks himself on Dean like a fucking pro. The only thing Dean was capable of was staring up at the man in awe, with every bounce punching out a stuttering grunt from him. Cas didn't complain when Dean began to white-knuckle it on his hips. Dean couldn't even trust himself to keep his eyes open — the pleasure was just too incredible, and the image of his dick sliding in and out was…

It was so fucking surreal.

Cas was using him a a human dildo.

His Cas!

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, _fuck_!” Dean growled. He was arching his back and his head dug into the pillow, but he could snap his back and not care. As long as he could still feel Cas. “Did you take notes or something?!”

“I merely paid close attention,” Cas gritted out with clenched teeth. His head fell back and he released a groan. “She was very expressive.”

Dean made a note to himself. _Thank that babysitter!_

“Do you like this, Cas?”

Cas nodded. “Yes.”

“Tell me.”

“I like this.”

Dean deliberately rubbed his thumbs over the sore nipples, making Cas hiss. He idly touched his shoulders, his waist, hips, until finally setting on his ass and giving those cheeks a tight squeeze. Dean couldn't get over for how such a lean guy Cas is, he still had a plump ass. He gave one cheek a hard slap and the sound echoed through the room in sync with Cas’ startled yowl.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this,” Dean admitted. He didn't know where this was coming from, but it was like a deep confession. Once he started, he just couldn't stop. “I’ve been dreaming about this for weeks. I thought I was gonna go insane from all the thoughts I had of you.”

Cas must have liked what he heard ‘cause he began to ride Dean harder.

Dean could've stayed like this forever, but he wasn’t going to last much longer. He could feel the coiling knot in his gut of his oncoming orgasm Dean wanted to cry. He didn't want this to end. Not yet. But he had no choice.

Dean grips Cas tight to his chest and throws back on the bed. He doesn't even give Cas a moment before he is clawing at his thighs and pounds into him like there’s no tomorrow.

He blankets over Cas easily — _he seems so much smaller now, I love it_ — watching the play of emotions on his face. Cas digs his teeth into his bottom lip so hard Dean thinks he might draw blood, and he’s looking up at Dean with large eyes and it’s so, so perfect. Cas looks stunned by everything that is happening. So is Dean, if he was being honest. He couldn't believe this was real. He was making Cas moan desperately, he was making the former angel tremble against him, he was making Cas lose control beneath him when he closed his eyes and cried out with every spike of liquid pleasure. Holy Mother of God, it was almost too much even Dean to bear.

Dean groans wildly and slams his mouth back onto Cas’, and when they make out Cas lets out the most delicious moans against his lips. Lifting his thighs up around Dean’s waist, he locks them around the hunter like he was scared he would would leave. _Like that was ever gonna happen_. Dean never wants to leave this room if he had Cas with him, and he would live a happy life.

Cas might have had practice with April and Meg in kissing, but he was still a little sloppy and uncoordinated. He still had tricks to learn, and part of Dean took pleasure in teaching him personally how it’s done. Cas’ inexperience only made it better. Much hotter. More open to his guiding tongue — until Cas broke away from the kiss.

“Dean!” Cas gasps, his voice frantic and strained. “S-something’s, ha-happening! Ah! Something’s _happening, ugh_!”

Dean could feel Cas’ internal muscles spasming around his cock, and Dean knew what those flutters mean. They’re working around his girth, trying to milk him rapidly… and with those desperate moans getting higher and urgent by the second, and with his tensing muscles stiffening as well, Dean knew exactly what was happening.

Cas is going to come. on his cock.

That thought had Dean seeing stars.

“’S okay, Cas. Let it happen. I got you.”

Snaking one hand between their bodies, Dean reaches down for Cas’ cunt until his fingers are rubbing against his clit in furious circles. Instantly, Cas is throwing his head back into the pillow and an elated cry is punched out of his chest. It’s so fucking beautiful. Dean watches, enthralled. Cas can barely keep his eyes open or stop from crying out. The hand he has latched onto Dean’s back is clawing into his skin. It will probably leave angry red scratches but Dean didn't care.

“Dean,” Cas whispers quickly.

Cas’ body is tensing. He’s getting closer, more desperate.

“Dean—”

Cas’ gapes at Dean, panting, chest heaving, nails getting deeper, harder, _harder_ —

_“Dean!”_

Cas seizes, tightening all over with release, and for a moment his mouth drops open. After a moment, he lets out a euphoric cry, digging his head into the pillow — but he never takes his eyes off Dean. He could see it all; the bliss, the surprise of feeling such overwhelming pleasure, and the vulnerability of being caught like this, the _intimacy_ of what they had done…

Cas’ muscles had clamped around Dean’s dick like a vice, and he only lasted three more thrusts until he was emptying his load into the former angel with a deep growl. He thrusted a few more time from the aftershock. Cas’ was too limp from exhaustion to protest. He just grabbed onto Dean’s neck with a loose grip.

Dean let himself collapse under the weight of his aching muscles and rested on top of Cas’. His skin is sticky with sweat, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He’s too exhausted for that, too boneless to even move again, or even think. All he could settle for was waiting for his breath to come back whilst Cas’ hand cradled the back of his skull and played with his hair. He purred at the action, burrowing closer to the warm body like a lazy cat and —

Then it dawned on Dean.

He just fucked Cas.

He came into his room, planning on leaving… and ended up fucking him.

_Oh, Christ._

Cas winces when Dean pulls out of him, and he rolls onto his back. Dean stares up at the ceiling for a few minutes, mostly so he could get his breath back, and mainly to freak out over what he has done.

There must be a rule about this. Sleeping with angels. Has he just broken some sacred rule? Has he defiled Cas forever for sleeping with a human? But Cas is human now, but still… still, that was some of the best sex he has ever had.

Dean groans mentally in his head. He’s going to hell.

Or back to hell.

Whatever, he’s going to hell.

“Dean?” Cas whispered. Dean could feel his eyes on him, watching him carefully, but Dean wasn't ready to face him. Not yet.

“Yeah, Cas?”

“That was unexpected.”

Before he knew it Dean was laughing hysterically. Trust Cas to state the blatantly obvious, and for some reason Dean found it more hilarious than usual.

“I fail to see the humour in this situation.”

“No, no! I don’t mean to laugh, I just… you just hit the nail right on the head, that’s all.”

That explanation didn't clarify things for Cas. “Oh, okay.”

There was another moment of silence between them, and it was causing Dean to fidget.

“Dean?” Cas broke the ice.

“Yes, Cas?”

“Do I have to shower again?”

Dean finally turned his gaze over to the former angel. Cas was looking calm. Part of it was from the sex, but Dean was expecting some sort of… I don’t know. Anger? Upset? Instead, he didn't have a care in the world.

Huh, maybe Dean hasn't broken any rules.

But this still shouldn't have happened. It shouldn't have. Even if Cas was human now, they still crossed a line. Cas is his friend. This complicates things. They live together! How is this a —

Before Dean could finish that thought, Cas looks down at his body and puts a hand on his tender nipples. Dean’s mind instantly short-circuited, making rational thought go out the window.

_Oh, fuck it._

Dean rolled on top of Cas and claimed his mouth all over again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I uh... I can't believe I wrote this.
> 
> It was meant to be a short chapter. 
> 
> Short!
> 
> *hides in the corner*


	3. Chapter 3

 

“You and Cas are finally talking again.”

Dean nearly choked on the hot coffee he was about to swallow. Sam just came out of nowhere. it took a moment for Dean to compose himself (and soothe the burn on his tongue) before he spoke. “Yeah,” Dean muttered, clearing his throat. “And?”

“No, that’s good,” Sam reassured. “You seemed pretty distant with him for awhile. I’m glad you guys are close again.”

In a quick flash, the image of Cas’ face pops into Dean’s mind. The first night, when this all started. Hot. Bliss. Sweaty memories. And the bucket of shame that always came along with it.

“Yeah,” Dean answered, his tone full of guilt. “You could say that.”

 

* * *

 

That incident in the kitchen weighed heavily on Dean’s mind since the morning it happened. He made up some stupid excuse and retreated into his room for who knows how long. Dean wasn't keeping track. Nobody came to disturb him, and he was thankful for that. Dean shouldn't have let this upset him, but that was easier said than done. Especially since Sam was almost right.

Things have been different. And Dean wasn't sure whether he likes it or not.

Cas would be up soon. He has taken to waking up late in the mornings, sometimes until noon. That was mostly Dean’s fault. He was used to functioning on little to no sleep, it was part of his daily routine to push the exhaustion to one side, but Cas was still trying to get his head around the fact that he had to sleep. And all Dean’s been doing is keeping him up later and later, and the fact that he was at fault made Dean’s stomach drop to the pit of his stomach with shame and guilt.

Because Sam was wrong and right at the same time. They had been close. Very close, but not in a way that was healthy or helpful to either of them.

Dean should probably explain.

After the first night, when he and Cas… well, you know. After a session like that Dean was no where near ready to leave the bed. He was still riding high from the bliss his second orgasm gave him, but Cas was wrecked by the adrenaline ride. Poor guy looked like he could barely keep his eyes open he was so exhausted and, in his head, Dean made the excuse of staying in Cas’ room that night. It wasn't long before Cas was dozing off into dreamland, completely dead to the world, but Dean? Sleep evaded him that night.

He spent most of the night laying next to Cas, listening to his light snores, and even letting him snuggle close for his body heat, (the heating in the Bunker wasn't the greatest some nights). In his head, that was why Dean wrapped his arm around him, brought him in closer, and let his cheek rest on his pectoral.

It was nice. Having somebody by his side at night felt good again. He doesn't think he’s done this since he was with Lisa. It was a struggle getting used to sleeping on your own again when you found comfort in the other body sleeping next to you, knowing they would be there… it’s a type of intimacy Dean has only experienced a handful of times. He never stays the night when he’s on a hook up. He rather not stay for the awkward mornings-after and especially the weird small talk. It was close to painful the few times he was unlucky in his early escape. No matter how exhausted he would feel after a one night stand, Dean would always make sure to get out of there as fast as he could.

But not with Cas. He couldn't do that to Cas for some reason, and Dean was shocked by how he didn't know why he couldn't do that. While he laid by his side, Dean spent the whole night trying to think up reasons. Well, for starters, he lives with Cas. The awkward morning after would be inevitable even if he did sneak out on his tiptoes, so it was best to just stay there and let it happen in the privacy in Cas’ bedroom. It wouldn't be easy explaining away that one to Sam if he was present.

The other reason also happened to be Sam. His room was further away from Cas’, but sound can carry and Dean did not want to get caught with his trousers down (no pun intended) slinking out of Cas’ room at a ridiculous hour in the morning. Of course Sam would put two and two together. He got into Stanford, for crying out loud. Dean might give him a hard time, but he knows Sam isn't an idiot.

But the one Dean felt was the right reason was the person asleep right next to him. He turned his gaze downward and was met with the former angel’s face practically underneath his chin.

Cas looked so peaceful. Dean doesn't think he has ever seen him so relaxed as he is asleep. The permanent scowl was gone, his steady and concentrated eyes were hidden under heavy lids, and his chest rising softly with each deep breath he took. Dean couldn't help but stare because it was so unusual to see Cas that serene. He wanted to savour it in his mind for a few seconds. He didn't know how often he would see that expression. It was a rare find. After all of the darkness and the mess they have all been through, you learn to appreciate the small things.

Maybe his appreciation would’ve been better if it wasn't laced with his guilt.

Because Dean’s gaze picked up the bite mark he left on his neck. It was still pink and raw. It will go away in the morning, but the marks he left on his nipples will leave them red and sore for days. Cas was whimpering on the edge of pain when Dean went back to sucking on them during their second round, but the bruises on his hips might take a little longer to fade. Dean didn't realise he was being so rough in the first place. It was only when his head was clear that he could see what he had done, and he wasn't sure if he liked it.

He couldn't believe that it had happened. Him and Cas… it happened. The one thing he had been fantasising about for weeks and it happened.

But should it have?

Cas seemed to be enjoying it, otherwise there was no way Dean would have continued if Cas asked him to stop. But he didn’t. That must have meant Cas wanted it too, right? That thought didn't sit well with Dean, though. It wasn't as if Cas made the first move. Heck, Cas hardly seemed interested in sex at all, besides that kiss with Meg and his supposed ‘first time’ with April, but Dean chalked those up to Cas being curious instead of actually desiring it. But what did Cas want?

Would Cas have wanted to do this if Dean hadn't been so… brazen? If Cas wasn't so caught up in the feeling of it all, would he have stopped Dean? And did he even want it to happen in the first place?

Dean suddenly found himself dreading the answer.

Because even if Cas did, or didn’t, want this to happen, where does this leave them now? Does this mean there is something more to their relationship? Or has Dean just destroyed his friendship irrevocably?

By the end, Dean eventually fell asleep with more dread than he ever experienced.

 

* * *

 

Dean was in the kitchen by the time morning rolled in. Exhaustion was still seeping into his mind and bones, so he was waiting for the coffee machine to heat up. For some reason it was taking forever to work this morning. Dean wanted to get his fix and get back to the room before Cas woke up.

He was still asleep when Dean rose out of bed, but his mind was still reeling from the lack of sleep, and he wanted to be semi-competent if he was going to talk to Cas about… about them.

By the time the machine was working and had his coffee ready, Dean almost inhaled the steamy beverage in one breath and nearly burned his tongue in the process. When he turned around to make his way back to the bedroom, there was no point.

Cas was already standing by the doorway to the kitchen. He was dressed in his sweats, his hair a shaggy mess from sleep (and other things), and pulling the sleeves of his sweater over his hands. That wasn't good. Cas only did that when he was nervous. Dean had time to learn most of Cas’ nervous ticks by now, and this was a big one. Cas must be really on edge for him to do that.

Neither of them said anything for awhile. The coffee hadn't had time to kick in yet, so Dean didn't have time to prepare what he was going to say. This was one of the things he dreaded when he got caught up in the awkward morning-after situations, but he only associated that with a casual hookup. They could at least laugh about it with a complete stranger. Only, Cas wasn't a stranger… and Dean wasn't sure what this thing with Cas was.

Casual? Hell no.

Awkward? _Oh, yes._

Dean took a moment to clear his throat before he thought of the first thing that came into his head. “Morning, Cas.”

“Good morning, Dean,” Cas replied.

He didn't say it was a good first thing that her thought of, but his brain was refusing to cooperate. It would have to do. “Did you sleep okay?”

“I slept well, thank you.”

“Good. That’s good,” Dean said.

Yeah. Very awkward.

The silence fell between them again after that little exchange. Every second that dragged on felt like an hour to Dean and made his stomach turn at the thought of what that silence could mean. But for him he had a sickening worry that it spelled the end.

No, no, no, it can’t be that. Dean does not want it to be like that. He can’t have it like that. Not with Cas.

_Just tell him it was a mistake, Dean thought. Just tell him it was a one time thing, and they will be okay again._

_I can’t lose him over this._

“Listen, Cas,” Dean began. He put his coffee cup on the table, and gave himself time to think about how to phrase this in a way Cas would understand. “Um… what happened last night between us… It was —”

The moment Dean was about to talk, the door to the Bunker opened, echoing down to the kitchen like a thunder clap. Dean immediately jumped away from Cas once he heard it. He didn't even realise he had done that until he was back by the coffee machine again.

Sam came down, dressed in his work out clothes and sneakers. Dean doesn't want to think how long he went out for a run. Why would anyone willing run for pleasure? It was unnatural, but Sam was soaked in sweat and out of breath, while he pulled his head phones blasting music out of his ears.

“Hey guys,” Sam panted. He went straight for the fridge and grabbed a cool bottle of water. He downed most of it in four loud gulps and sighing once he finished for breath. “Ah, I needed that. What were you two talking about?”

“Nothing important,” Dean interrupted quickly.

Cas gave Dean a curious glance that he couldn't decipher before the former angel looked away.

Sam didn't seem to notice the tension between them and went back to finishing the last of his water bottle, and mumbled something about needing to take a shower.

But he didn't go straight away. Instead, Sam decided to play mother hen and made a huge fuss about cooking breakfast and feeding everyone like they were some peachy Norman Rockwell painting. Dean didn't get a chance to talk to Cas all friggin’ day, even though Sam was complaining about needing a shower the whole damn time! When Sam finally left them alone, Cas had decided to do something else and was out of Dean’s reach.

But that was okay. It gave Dean time to think about how he was going to talk to Cas. Explain to Cas exactly what Dean was trying to say; _Last night was a mistake, try and forget about it and go back to being friends again._ That’s not so hard. Cas could understand that. They could forget this ever happened and go back to the way things were.

And the last thing he wanted Cas to feel like he was a ditch-able prom date. Or a one night stand. Yeah, it was… one hell of an amazing night, but this is Cas. His best friend. How did this get so screwed up? Cas’ junk changes and suddenly he loses his mind over it? Dean doesn't want to risk losing Cas because he couldn't control himself. It never ends well for him.

So that night, Dean took the bull by the horns and went straight to speak to Cas that night. He would be in his room at this hour, and Dean would tell him. It would be the end of it. Shake their hands and agree to never talk about it again.

Only… it wasn't the end.

It happened again.

And it kept happening after that.

It was like some kind of unspoken agreement between the two of them. Completely unspoken. Dean’s little speech was out absolutely gone from his mind the moment Cas grabbed him by the back of his neck and pulled him in for an uncoordinated kiss, and… well, you can guess the rest. And once it started, Dean found it increasingly difficult to stop.

It’s not like Dean meant for this to happen. He knew this was causing his relationship with Cas to become difficult, but he couldn't bring himself to talk about it to anyone. Not even Cas.

And Sam! What would Sam think if he found out? He would be disgusted with him just as Dean is with himself. And Dean could see Cas wanted to tell Sam, but Dean would stop him just before the words left his mouth. It was like a stab in his chest every time he saw Cas’ confused expression. Every single time. And when Cas tries to talk to him about why he cant say anything, Dean is just as cruel. The whole time they slept together, they never uttered a word about their relationship.

Dean felt so guilty about it, but he didn't know what he was feeling about the whole situation. He did care about Cas. He’s his best friend, he would do anything for him. Was it sexual? Well, there’s no denying that. But was it romantic? Honestly, Dean has no idea.

Maybe he is just as confused as Cas.

Only he doesn't know what Cas is feeling about this.

Like he said, it was completely unspoken.

That doesn’t mean Cas hasn't tried to talk to Dean about it. He’s the one who tried to start a conversation every single time, but Dean would only shut him down. The timing was never great when Cas wanted to. It was always after sex, always when Dean was feeling like a shitty douche bag for what he was doing to Cas, and he ended up being harsher than he intended to be. It was an unhealthy ritual, and tonight was no exception.

“I don’t understand the need to lie to Sam,” Cas asked. They were in Dean’s room that night. Cas’ skin still had a sheen of sweat and red marks from their earlier session, and he was looking at Dean carefully. “He has mentioned many occasions where he would like you to go out and date someone.”

But Dean kept his eyes straight up at the ceiling, suddenly fascinated by the discoloured white paint. Maybe the last owner of this room smoke in here. It had gone a sour yellow over time. He had time to analyse it. It was his usual distraction for these conversations.

Dean could feel that gaze on him, but he didn't think he could handle Cas watching him right now. “That’s just Sam being concerned. He shouldn't be asking things like that from me, and if we said anything it will only make things worse. We’re not going to say anything to him.”

“Why not?”

Dean doesn't know why not. That’s the problem. “It — It’s not something people talk about, Cas.”

“But you frequently talk about your previous partners and paramours with your friends and family.”

“This is different.”

“I don’t understand how this is different,” Cas pleaded.

“It just is, Cas,” Dean said firmly, hoping this would be the end of it. “Just drop it, okay? We can talk about this another time.”

Dean knew that was bull. Cas knew that was bull. They would never talk about it another time. He would just put it off for as long as he could until Cas asked again, only for the cycle to resume itself later on. Dean could still feel that Cas was looking at him. His eyes were heavy on his skin that made Dean feel so exposed, but he just ignored him. He just kept his eyes fixed on the ceiling, on that sour yellow, and waited it out.

Cas finally said something after a long period of silence. His voice was small, but there was so much certainty in it, Dean wondered if it was meant to be a question or a statement for him to rebut. “If I was female… would this be an issue?”

Dean didn't say anything. He couldn’t. Because he didn't have the answer Cas wanted.

Cas didn't press Dean, but he seemed to have drawn his own conclusion from the silence alone. Dean felt Cas twist his body under the covers so that he was facing away from him, but Dean was surprised he didn't leave outright.

After that night, Cas stopped trying to tell Sam the truth about them.

 

* * *

 

“Dude, don't you ever sleep?”

It was late in the evening when Dean came down from his room. He was on his way to the kitchen when he noticed the lights were still on, and his little brother sitting by the table. He was reading some sort of file, going through page after page with visible interest. He didn't even look up when Dean walked in. He continued to read over a particular page that seemed to be the post fascinating of the bunch. Weird.

“Sorry,” Sam mumbled. “Lost track of time.”

“What for?” Dean asked. He grabbed a glass from the shelf and turned the tap on to fill it up with water before taking large gulps. “Did Casa Erotica come out as novels?”

“Ha ha, very funny. And no,” Sam teased, but he didn't take much notice. He finished reading the page and turned around in his chair to face Dean. “You remember telling me what Cas said to you? About why Metatron changed him?”

Oh. That. Yeah, even after a few weeks of brainstorming, none of them could understand what Metatron meant with his intentions for Cas, but it hasn't been at the forefront of Dean’s mind. Not recently, anyway. “Yeah, what about it?”

“Well, since Cas is human now, I thought we should know about any conditions or illnesses he might have, so I requested Jimmy Novak’s medical records.”

There was something about what Sam said that didn't sit right with Dean. “They just handed his file to you? Isn't it illegal to read another persons personal information?”

Sam shrugged. “Only if you get caught.”

That was good enough for Dean. “What did you find?”

“Honestly, there’s not much. Jimmy was a healthy guy. He never booked a doctors appointment, no allergies, no prescriptions for medication — his file’s almost clean. I don’t think he’d ever been sick a day in his life. Until 1998, when he and Claire both got a case of the mumps.”

Dean stared wide eyed at his brother. “The mumps?”

“Yep, and by the looks of his records it was a pretty bad dose of it.”

Sam passed the file over to Dean. He took it without question and began to flick through the pages of black text and jargon until he found the relevant page. It was mostly photo’s of Jimmy, but instead of his usually structured jawline, the side of his cheek was swollen. Really swollen. It was like a large mass was covering the side of his cheek, down to the curve of his neck. It was tinged a slight pink colour, but the expression on Jimmy face told him everything — it hurt like a bitch.

“Ouch,” Dean winced. “It’s the size of a baseball. Hold on, how did Jimmy get the mumps? Nobody gets the mumps these days.”

“Exactly. Turns out Jimmy wasn't vaccinated. Claire was only eleven months old when she contracted it, she would've been too young to receive the vaccination. Claire got it first, Jimmy got it from Claire, thinking he was safe from the virus.”

“Why would you not get yourself vaccinated?” Dean shook his head. “What’s this got to do with Metatron?”

“You said Metatron wanted Cas to have kids?” Sam asked. When Dean nodded, he went back to his findings. “Well, there’s a side effect of the mumps. The disease can cause fertility problems for men in the future. Jimmy had to be hospitalised for a while, and it took him a long time to recover, but he made a full recovery. The next time Jimmy came back to the hospital, he and Amelia were trying to have more kids, with no luck. They went to have their fertility tested, and…”

“And I’m guessing it wasn't good news?” Dean predicted.

Sam shook his head. “He was completely sterile.”

Dean winced. He looked back at the photo in his hands, of the large hamster cheek that looked incredibly painful. “Wow. All that from a kids disease?”

“Not always. Fertility issues happen, but complete sterility is incredibly rare. Jimmy just happened to be the unlucky one.”

Dean huffed. “You can say that again. But I’ll repeat, what does this have to do with Metatron?”

“I’m not completely sure, but something about it was… bugging me. Did Cas say anything else about Metatron? Or anything else?”

Dean didn't know how to answer that. He and Cas hadn't exactly been talking much since their last night together about a week ago. It gotten to the point where Cas would stop turning up to Dean’s room, or had locked his bedroom door so Dean couldn't come and check on him. It shouldn't have surprised him, and Dean never pushed. He got the message loud and clear — leave me alone.

But it still hurt for Cas to just keep Dean out of his life like that.

It was even affecting their ever day lives. Cas would only talk to him when they were working on a case, or had to be around each other. Once their business was done, Cas would retreat away into his room and make sure no one would bother him in the mean time. Dean gave him the space he needed, but did he like it?

Fuck no.

This isn't what Dean wanted. He wanted to turn back the clock. He wanted a redo. He wanted those awkward conversations of explaining social cues to him when he was confused. He wanted those moments where they could be around each other without the need to say anything, but still feel completely comfortable with the silence between them. He wanted those moments where he knew he could always count on Cas to be there for him, and for Cas to feel the same way about Dean.

He wanted his friend back.

And he’s completely fucked this up.

When morning rolled on, the brothers were having their breakfast. When Cas trotted down to join them, he kept his eyes away from Dean and proceeded to make his own full plate and eat away. There was a heavy silence between Dean and Cas, awkward as hell, but Sam didn't seem to notice. Sam never seems to notice — honestly, how is that possible? Maybe that was for the best. He did not want to see the disappointment in his brothers face when he found out what he has done.

Later in the afternoon, Sam gave himself a break from going through the Bunker’s library, and was asking Dean if he wanted anything from the store. There was nothing that sprung to mind, so he waved him off, and Sam had turned his attention to Cas.

“Is there anything you want, Cas?” Sam asked.

“Not that I can think of,” Cas didn't even look up from the newspaper he was reading.

“Are you sure? Aren’t you due soon?”

Cas raised his intense gaze to the younger Winchester. “Aren't I due what?”

“Your period. It’s been awhile since your last one. I can get you some pads if you need me to.”

Cas’ face lightened up with understanding. “Oh, thank you, Sam, but I won’t be needing them.”

“Why not?”

“I’m not bleeding.”

Sam paused in buttoning up his coat. “What? Are you late or something?”

Cas replied with something Dean assumed was his version of a shrug. “I don’t know. I’m just not bleeding.”

Sam frowned at that. He looked like he was trying to figure out what hidden meaning Cas’ words elicited, but he brushed it aside. He grabbed his wallet and went out to the store.

 

* * *

 

It was a few days later and Dean decided to cook that night. A grown man can only take so much salad and health-nut food before he loses his mind, or actually start craving the stuff, and he didn't give Sam the chance to object. He bought all the ingredients without him and was preparing everything he needed for Taco night.

Dean was frying up the beef in a pan. It was saturated in so much grease and oil it would make Sam queasy. And his expression was priceless, but even Sam is still partial for a little Mexican flavour. The smell of it was to die for. Dean’s stomach was grumbling happily from the anticipation of finally being able to eat it with the fillings and tortilla. Damn, it’s been way to long…

Sam was chopping up the onions, tomato’s, lettuce, sauce — basically anything you need for the perfect meal. It would only be a few more minutes and they could eat to their hearts content. When Dean finally had the stuff ready on the table, it was like a feast for a king. It was so perfect Dean wanted to take a picture, like one of those food bloggers. That’s how good it looked.

Everything was ready. Sam went to get Cas so they could eat. Dean didn't object to Sam going. It would save another awkward meeting between the two of them, and Cas seemed to like spending time with Sam more than him now. Besides, he had other things to get on the table. Like beer. He needed to get the beer from the fridge. Yeah. That’s important too.

By the time they were all on the table, Sam, Dean, and Cas were all tucking away to their meal, and it was better than Dean could've hoped for. He must on his third taco by now, and was thinking about moving onto taco number four when he risked a glance over at Cas. It had become a habit of one of them looking at each other and pretending they were busy with something else. But Dean didn't hide it this time. He couldn’t.

There was an odd expression across Cas’ face. He was staring down at his plate with his lips in a thin line and his nostrils flaring slightly. It was then Dean realised that Cas hadn't touched his meal. Not a morsel of it. It lay there in front of him and all Cas seemed capable of is staring at it with contempt.

No, not contempt. Actually, Dean couldn't tell what it was. Cas looked really bad.

“Hey, Cas? Aren’t you hungry?”

“No,” Cas replied quickly. He swallowed as soon as he spoke, his white lips going into a stern line. Dean clocked Sam lifting his gaze up to see what was going on.

“Are you sure? I haven't seen you eat all day,” Dean stated.

“I don’t want to eat. It smells horrible.”

“Hey!” Dean complained. _I worked hard on this._

Luckily, Sam cut in. “Cas, are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I’m not hungry.”

“That’s fine, but you don’t look right.”

Cas swallowed the lump in his throat, his face twisting in disgust. “The smell is… pungent. And nauseating. How can you find this meal edible?”

“You’re feeling sick again?” Sam asked.

Cas shook his head. “No, this is different, the smell is…”

Suddenly, Cas stopped. His body gave a slight jolt forward, only slight, but the effect it had on Cas left him blinking rapidly and breathing heavily. Just when Dean was about to ask Cas what was wrong, Cas covered his mouth, his eyes wide and frightened.

“Cas?” Dean asked with concern.

In a flash, Cas had pushed himself away from the table, his chair clattering to the floor from the effort of doing so, and rushed over to the kitchen sink. The moment he got there, Cas didn't hold back. He began to throw up. Loudly.

Before Dean knew it, like in some sort of autopilot, he found himself next to Cas with his hand on his back. He doubted the former angel noticed the touch. He kept retching away, his muscles spasming violently under Dean’s palm, until all Cas could no longer do so. He spat out the aftertaste and breathed in heavily through his nose to calm himself down.

“Cas?” Sam asked. Dean looked up and saw his little brother on the other side of Cas. He reached over to tap, twisting it until the water began to ran and wash away vomit. “Are you feeling better after that?”

Cas didn't answer that. All he did was whimper miserably.

 

* * *

 

Dean was able to get Cas to his room for him to finally rest. He looked like the picture of death. His skin was white and clammy from sweat, and the smell of the taco’s only made him gag, so it was best to get him away from the source. Cas still wasn’t in a talking mood after that. Poor guy still must be reeling from the shock of it. Dean doubts Cas has ever thrown up before in his life, even after that monster hangover from a few years ago.

Dean closed the door lightly behind him. He was on his way to find Sam, but fate had his brother already making his way over to him with a glass of water in his hand.

“How is he?” Sam asked.

“He’s still not great, but he’s taking a nap now,” Dean answered. “Um… what the hell just happened?”

Sam was as stupefied as he was. “I have no idea.”

“Any suggestions would be great! Did he eat something bad or…” Dean trailed off, his thoughts going towards another worrying thought. “Oh, God. The taco’s. Is it food poisoning? Did I give him food poisoning?!”

“Dean, he didn't eat anything, and it would've been to soon for the bacteria to get into his system. I mean, do you feel okay?

“Yeah, I’m fine, but Cas never gets sick, except for…”

_Except for his time of the month_ , Dean thought. _Oh Cas…_

“Ah, man, you don’t think it’s his… you know?”

Sam seemed confused by what Dean meant until he pointed down to his pelvic area. When Sam understood what Dean was referring to, he gave his brother an exasperated look. “His period? You’re a grown man, Dean. It’s not gonna bite you if you say the words.”

Dean huffed. “Well, is it?”

“Maybe. I’l go ask him.”

Sam was about to go for the door, but Dean stopped him by grabbing onto his forearm. “Do it tomorrow. He’s sleeping.”

“Oh, okay,” Sam nodded. He handed the glass over to Dean. “Just put this on the bed side table for him. If it is food poisoning it is best to keep him hydrated.”

Dean nodded slightly, but Sam was already making his way to his bed for the night. It was getting late and exhaustion was weighing heavily on Dean, but he was too concerned to think about rest. Not now.

Dean opened the door to Cas’ room as quietly as he could. He tiptoed over to the bestie table and placed the glass by his bed like he promised Sam he would. He was just about to walk out when he took a look at Cas.

Even asleep he looked like hell. The side light made his pale skin look translucent and skeletal. It made Dean feel anxious. The peaceful look was no longer there anymore. Being asleep was Cas’ escape from it all. And now he can’t even have that. How is that fair?

As much as Dean knew he should leave Cas alone, every cell in his body cried out for him to stay. If he went to his room, he wouldn't stop fretting over Cas, not when he was like this. Not when he was so… so…

Damn it. Even if he wasn't ill, Dean would still find a way to stay. Even when Cas probably didn't want him too.

Dean gave up on his attempts at reasoning his way out of this, he went to the empty space next to Cas. He unbuckled his jeans and slid them off, keeping his boxers and shirt on. He pulled back the covers and snuggled into the warmth. The moment he was laying there, Dean felt every ounce of tension leave his body.

He had been feeling it for days. Ever since that night when Dean fucked things up royally between him and Cas. When he ruined his friendship for good. And now Cas won’t talk to him unless he had to.

And as much as he wishes he could have that back, how he missed the easy friendship between them, the moment Dean nestled closer into Cas’ body heat, he discovered how much he missed this, as well. The physical part of their relationship. Not the sex, but the intimacy behind it. The need to be near Cas to feel better.

Like he said. It was hard getting used to sleeping on your own when you were so used to someone being by your side.

And… and he really missed Cas. More than he realised.

The seconds rolled by and Dean was finally asleep.

 

* * *

 

When Dean woke up the next morning, he was startled by a sudden jolt through his body and the sound of hurried feet getting further away. He was still fuzzy from tiredness and dropped his head back on his pillow, but when the sound of retching reached his ears, he opened his eyes.

He remembered. Cas’ room. He’s sick. He needs Dean.

“Cas?” Dean grumbled. He threw the covers off him and followed Cas to the ensuite. He blinked the fog from his vision, his sight clearing only for him to find Cas hunched over the toilet bowl, heaving out whatever was left in his stomach.

Dean winced in sympathy for him. “Oh, God — Sammy!”

Dean called out for his brother. Why? He doesn't know. He wasn't even sure if Sam was awake yet, but Cas needed help. The only thing Dean felt like he could help Cas was to kneel by him and rub his back and shoulders.

Cas kept heaving until all he could bring up was acidic bile. He rested his temple against the cool porcelain to bring his temperature down. He was starting to get clammy again. While he looked around the room, Dean spotted a wash cloth, grabbed it and soaked it under the sinks tap water. Cold. That will help. Dean brought the cloth to Cas’ forehead, wiping away the beading sweat and soothing his friend.

The sound of footsteps caught Dean’s attention, and he turned around to find Sam coming into the room. Before he could say anything to his brother, Dean was caught off by the analytical look that crossed his brothers face. Sam was studying the two of them carefully, like he was being shown something completely new. Then he turned his attentions to Cas’ messy bed, and dropped to the jeans on Dean’s floor —

_Oh, yeah,_ Dean realised. He’s in his boxers.

When Sam looked at his brother again, his eyes were wide and bright with understanding. “I’ll be right back.”

“Hey, Sam! Where are you going?”

But Sam was out the door before Dean could get a word in. He was nowhere to be seen in the bunker when Dean went to check on him, but he was too preoccupied with taking care of Cas to care. Cas was still green around the gills by the time Sam returned home half an hour later. He was holding a small plastic bag in one hand as he sauntered down the steps.

Dean placed a glass of water in front of Cas, but the former angel grimaced at the gesture. He doesn't look like he could keep anything down at the moment. “Where did you disappear off to?”

Sam made it to the table and put the bag down, having little peak inside to make sure he had everything. “Went to get something that will test a theory.”

“And what theory would that be, Einstein?”

“Dean, how long have you been sleeping with Cas?”

Dean nearly fell to the ground at that comment. Sam said it so calmly and casually that Dean was certain he misheard him, and merely stared at his brother wide eyed and stunned. “Um, what?”

“Did I stutter? How long have you been sleeping with Cas?”

Nope. He really said that. “I, uh… well —”

Dean was caught so off guard he could barely string a sentence together. Sam didn't seem to have the patience to wait for him to reply and turned to his friend. “Cas, how long have you and Dean been having sex?”

Cas didn't have the same reservations. “Since November 12th.”

“Did you guys use protection?” Sam asked.

Cas was able to muster up the strength to frown at Sam. “I didn't think my angel blade would be necessary—”

Sam sighed and turned back to his brother. “Dean, did you use a condom? Did you use any protection? _At all?_ ”

Dean was about to answer him, but he suddenly thought back to his nights with Cas and he realised that no. He hadn't. Not once. “Well, not exactly, I —”

Sam huffed in annoyance. “Oh, my God, you guys are idiots.”

Sam dove his hand in the bag and produced a small, bright pink box, and gave it to Cas. Dean watched the former angel carefully, and began to worry when Cas was able to get over his wave nausea and look… frightened. Cas was frightened. “You get two in one box. Just in case.”

_What the hell does that mean?_ Dean thought. “Sam, what’s going on?”

Sam wouldn’t answer him, Cas wouldn't look at him — It was making Dean feel more jittery by the minute. And the more Cas freaked out by the second, the more Dean was teetering on the edge of picking up a fight.

“Sam?!” Dean almost shouted.

When he was met with more silence, Dean couldn't take it anymore. He lunged forward and grabbed the box straight out of Cas’ hands. Sam might have chided him, Cas might have called his name — he wasn't listening. Once he grabbed the box, Dean started reading the fine print, followed by the bold words that made his blood turn cold.

_"E_ _arly Response! Over 99% accurate and can detect hCG hormones from up to two days before your missed period. Easy to read, with quick results and is as accurate as visiting your doctor."_

It’s a pregnancy test.

Oh.

Dean stared at the box until his face drained completely of colour.

_Oh shit…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally meant to be three chapters, but as I was writing it, the story felt unfinished if I left it here. Don't worry. This won't be a long fic, I might just be adding two or three more chapters. Anyhow, I hope you enjoyed this.
> 
> Until next time. x


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's midnight here, I'm tired, but I would't sleep until it was finished. So here it is.
> 
> Might be potential triggers so I'll put them in the end notes.
> 
> Any spelling or grammar mistakes are my own, etc...
> 
> Hope you enjoy.

If Dean has learned anything over the last few months is that Cas cannot stand the smell of meat. Not at all. Ever since taco night, the slightest whiff of grease, and oil, and cow would send him running to the nearest bathroom and hurling out the entirety of his stomach. And even when there was nothing left to hurl up, Cas would still feel nauseated from the “odour” and keep coughing up bile until he was completely exhausted from the act. He never looked worse than when he was hunched over a bowl, green from heaving, and breaking out in a sweat.

He can eat chicken though. That’s the only meat he can stomach, or at least bear the smell of. He doesn't eat much of it, but he doesn't go running to the can every time Sam or Dean get tired of vegetables and add some variety to their meal. There’s only so many times a person can eat broccoli in one week…

But beef and pork — no. That was a definite _no._

They’ve had a few trial and error moments. Cas would walk into the room, the smell of Dean’s burgers frying in fatty oil to running out of the kitchen, or just end up chucking up in the sink when he can’t hold it long enough to get to the bathroom. After they realised what was causing it, Sam stopped buying beef and pork at the store.

It helped a little bit, but that doesn't mean Cas’ vomiting depleted. Dean had heard about morning sickness being bad but this… this was a whole new level.

The weird thing about morning sickness is that it never happened in the morning. So why do they call it morning sickness? Dean has no idea. It would be more appropriately labelled ‘all day sickness’ because Cas can barely stomach anything for long before he has to sit down when another wave of nausea hits. And boy, does it hit…

So the only time Dean has been able to eat any beef is when he would drop over to the nearest diner and have an all you can eat meat fest. It’s not like a chore or anything. Joe’s diner is pretty good. It has a steady stream of people, not too much where it’s crowded, and Wendy the waitress is fun to talk to. She has one of those voices that went deep from years of cigarette smoking and when she laughs it’s like a witches cackle. She’s fun to be around, and when you ask her about her kids, that voice is practically dripping with pride.

_Kids…_

Funnily enough, it’s always kids they end up talking about.

She has two girls. The eldest is twenty-one, the youngest is fifteen — Addy and Ria. Ria is the shy bookish type who would rather talk to herself in her own head than the girls at her high school, while Addy is close to finishing college in the summer. She wants to be a musician, knows how to play the guitar, drums and bass, and hopes to start her own band. Dean likes the idea of that. From all the other things Wendy has told him about Addy, she sounds like a rocker. Wendy’s ‘old man’ is almost going deaf from the constant practice in their house.

Dean could talk to Wendy all day, but every time he had to leave Dean would always give her a generous tip. Maybe part of her savings for when her ‘old man’ finally needs surgery for his eardrums. Or maybe for the fact that Wendy never pushes him when he doesn't want to talk about himself.

And what could he tell her? He’s a horrible person? That he is just like his Dad in the worst ways possible?

Because that is true.

Cas’ morning sickness faded away when he entered his fourth month, but there was suddenly a bump. A small, barely noticeable bump if you looked for it, and it suddenly hit him. He knew Cas was pregnant, but seeing and knowing it was there, growing inside him? It was like an avalanche hit him and he realised that, shit — that’s his baby in there.

And just like the avalanche again, the panic hit him in full storm and he is buried under the piles of snow.

That’s why he like coming to the diner. Wendy helps him forget and, honestly? He’s glad to get out of the Bunker. Because things have been… what’s the word?

Bad.

Yeah, things have been bad. Very, _very_ bad.

 

* * *

 

_Dean was pacing outside the door for the last five minutes, ever since Cas grabbed the test out of his hands and almost ran to the bathroom. He locked Dean out before he could get to him. And all Cas did was ignore him._

_So all he could do was wait. Wait for Cas to come out and tell him. Tell him that he… that he…_

_Holy crap, Dean can’t even think of the words. He can’t do it._

_The minutes were beginning to tick away, time was getting longer and longer, as if the seconds had become minutes and all that bullshit and —_

_How long does it take to pee on a fucking stick?!_

_Come on!_

_His anger was getting to the point where Dean was contemplating kicking the door down and demanding answers, but he didn't need to. The lock clicked open and Cas was standing in front of him._

_Dean didn't even take a moment to think. He ended up grabbing the test straight out of his hand and read the results himself._

_Two pink lines._

_Two._

_But what does that mean?_

_Dean saw the box sitting on the sink counter. He grabbed it quickly, turning it around and letting his eyes roam over the fine print carefully, until one quick glance —_

_One line — negative._

_Two lines…_

_Positive._

_A positive test._

_That means… oh God…_

_Holy mother of God, no._

 

* * *

 

The first few days of finding out were the worst. Not just for Dean, but for Cas, too. He had an even worse reaction to it than Dean. Once Dean had gotten over his mini break down, Sam was trying to talk to Cas through his bedroom door after he had locked himself in. Cas was in there for hours before he finally came out, only for him ignore the topic completely and pretend it wasn't happening. He must have picked that up from Dean. They had the same attitude to when it came to dealing with their problems — bury your head in the sand and pretend it wasn't happening.

But it was happening.

Every time Cas ran to the bathroom, Dean remembered it has happening.

When he started craving anything sweet and sugary, Dean remembered it was happening.

The countless times Sam tried to bring up the topic, Dean remembered it was happening.

They knew it was happening. They just didn't want to talk about it.

Like with everything else.

But even then it came to the point where they didn't have a choice.

Dean circled the rim of his coffee mug with his index finger, over and over again whilst the steam evaporated into the air. He hadn't even touched it yet. Wendy always poured him a cup when he walked in, even when he wasn't in the mood for drinking it, but it gave him a reason to stay. And Wendy never asked what was bothering him when he was silent and moody. He couldn't explain it even if he wanted to.

It all came to a head when Cas began to show. Just a little bit. It was barely noticeable to the untrained eye, but the brothers were looking for it. When Cas’ toned middle began to fill out slightly, Sam couldn't take anymore of the denial treatment and held an intervention against their will. And he was diligent too, because he cornered Dean and Cas in the kitchen during a chance opportunity, and Sam stepped in and locked the door — and there was no way in hell he was letting them out until they ‘talked this the fuck out’. His words, not Dean’s.

And it was awkward as hell. And the problem wasn't even with Dean. It was Cas. He would not open up about it at all, and when he did it was difficult for them all. He could remember it well like it was yesterday…

_It was a another few minutes before Sam tried to talk to Cas again, and you’d think he would’ve given up by now. Cas was not budging from where he was sat on the table, his gaze locked on the wood surface — anywhere that was not Sam and Dean. Especially not Dean._

_Sam’s voice was calm and collected. The same it has been since this whole thing began. “Cas, you can’t keep ignoring the problem. The sooner we talk about this, the sooner we can figure out what we can do.”_

_“Aren’t there other pressing issues other than this?” Cas asked timidly._

_“You can’t keep pretending this isn't happening,” Sam explained. “You’re pregnant, Cas, and that is not going to change unless you want it to. So it’s best to know what it is you want to do and we can help you. Won’t we, Dean?”_

_The younger brother turned around to face the older Winchester, who was leaning against the counter, away from the discussion. He was listening intently to what was being said, but he didn’t have anything to say. Didn't have anything that would be remotely helpful._

_“But it will have little to do with me,” Cas interrupted._

_“Excuse me?” Sam asked._

_“In my understanding, I have no biological connection to this foetus. It is the product of Jimmy Novak’s vessel and will be linked to him. My presences as a host does not create familial links in the process.”_

_Cas said it in such a cool and detached manner. Dean was surprised by how quickly he reverted back to the first time he ever knew Cas — the angel following orders, the one who never rebelled. Seeing him like that again was almost a shock to the system, but Sam recovered faster than Dean, asking: “You think this is Jimmy’s baby?”_

_Cas nodded firmly. “Yes.”_

_But Sam wasn't convinced. He brought his chair a bit closer to the former angel and spoke in a slow and tender voice, the same way you would give if you would speak to a child. “Cas, you need to understand this. You are not an angel anymore. You don’t need a vessel to hold you. I know this is hard for you to grasp, but here’s the truth; this is no longer a vessel. Jimmy is gone, he’s not in there anymore. Only you, meaning this is your vessel, now. This is your body. Meaning that baby is your child.”_

_“I know!” Cas suddenly slammed a fist into the table, causing Dean and Sam to jump at the loud noise, but Cas was not paying attention to their responses, and was close to shouting. “Why does everyone presume I don’t know this? I’m not an idiot. Don’t you dare treat me like I am stupid. I am — ” Cas winced visibly at his own slip up, but it gave him a chance to calm down. “Was — an Angel of the Lord. I know more than you and Dean could ever comprehend in your lives.”_

_Sam was still a bit stunned at the outburst, but he couldn't stay silent now. “Cas, no one is questioning that.”_

_“Then why have you and Dean been treating me like an invalid? Like I lack the capacity to take care of myself? I mess up on one thing, and it’s as if I am never to be trusted with a simple task again.”_

_Sam stared at the former angel, his eyes filled with sorrow. “We never meant to make you feel that way.”_

_But Cas wasn't looking at him. His anger seemed to zap right out of him and he looked close to crying. Sure enough, a tear rolled down his cheek and he wiped it away with the back of his hand. “I’m sorry, Sam. I’m sorry. I’ve been feeling… overwhelmed, recently. I find myself getting upset more often than usual. I can’t control it.”_

_Sam placed a hand on his shoulder. “That’s okay, Cas. Mood swings are very common. No one is judging you here, but we need to talk about this. We need to know what you are planning to do.”_

_Cas shook his head, blinking back the threat of more tears from his red rimmed eyes. “I don’t know what to do.”_

_You’re not the only one, Dean thought. But when he looked up at Cas, all he saw was how hopeless and defeated he seemed — it was all over in his body language, in the way he held himself…_

_What the fuck has Dean done to him?_

_Dean cleared his throat, finally speaking out. “You do have options, Cas.”_

_“What?”_

_Dean took a deep breath. “People say you have plenty of options but, really, you only have three. You could keep it and raise it as your own. You can carry on with the pregnancy and give it to another family who will want it, or you… You don’t… have to have it. If you don’t want to.”_

_His answer came with a mixed response. The moment those words came out of his mouth, Sam shot him an horrified glare. Dean didn't blame him. He probably thinks Dean was hoping for the one option that would make this all go away, but Cas… Cas didn't know what to think about it. His eyes flickered between Sam and Dean, trying to gauge what was going on, but he didn't seem to be understanding what was happening._

_But his gaze landed on Dean. He stared at the hunter with pleading eyes, asking for so much without saying anything at all._

_“What do you think I should do?”_

_I don’t know, Cas, Dean thought. I don’t know what to do._

_“It’s your choice, Cas,” Dean shrugged. “But when you do decide, you gotta know what you are letting yourself in for.”_

_Dean purposely avoided his little brother’s continuing glare. He didn't need to see the anger and disappointment in those eyes. He was already feeling that way already…_

It was the next day when Cas announced that he was going to continue with the pregnancy.

He kept his gaze square at Dean when he said that, like Dean was the only one that mattered when it came to this piece of news. And it should. Dean’s the father. He doesn't question that in the slightest, but the moment those words came out of Cas’ mouth… it sent an icy pain through his chest that he had never felt before.

Dean couldn't put into words how he was feeling about this. It certainly wasn't happy. How could he be when the circumstances of his relationship to Cas has been less than stellar? There was no excitement. Most fathers should be bouncing and ready to go, but Dean? He was feeling something, but it was not a positive thing. Dean used to be one of those people, once. But now he couldn't afford to get excited.

Not about fatherhood.

He never told anyone, but there was a time, long ago, when that was what Dean wanted. He wanted it so badly. To live out the happier moments of his childhood, before Mom died, ready to give everything he could for that kid that resembled him with an innocent smile.

Yeah, he entertained the idea, but he would never admit that to Sam, or to Cas. With any of the girls that kept him around for more than one night, that fantasy would crawl back into his mind and he would remember how badly he wants it. So, so badly…

When he had met Cassie when she was in college, she had told him she would like to settle down and have children. He couldn't deny the thrill that went threw him. Things were going so well between them, it even made Dean hopeful that he could get that dream. For just a little bit. But then he told her what he did for a living and that went to shit faster than ever before.

Realistically, he knew it was a mistake to get that close. Look how that ended, but he moved on. He had to. There were things to do, but it still played on his mind. And then there was Lisa, the first time. And finding out about Ben, finding out he wasn't his… yeah, he was disappointed. And then there was that year where everything was like Stepford, that one blissful year…

A family.

He had that once, but not anymore. Maybe he was never meant to have it.

And then Emma… his daughter. Well, we know how that turned out.

After so many chances and broken hearts, Dean got the picture.

Maybe he was never meant to have it.

But now it was happening again.

How long would that last now?

Cas wasn’t talking to him. Well, he wasn't talking to Cas either, but what were they suppose to do? Cas was keeping the baby, but is that really what he wanted? But then, how would he know what Cas wanted.

Like he said, they weren’t talking…

_“Where are you going?”_

_Sam was grabbing his jacket from where it was hanging idly over his chair. He was shucking his arm into one of the sleeves when he turned to look at Dean. “Cas didn't tell you?”_

_Dean shook his head. “No.”_

_Sam gave an unamused huff. “Shocker.”_

_Well, that cleared things up. “What’s going on?”_

_Sam had his jacket on now and he was grabbing his wallet and the Impala keys. “It’s Thursday. Cas’ first doctor’s appointment? He asked me to go with him.”_

_Doctor’s appointment? Cas had a doctor’s appointment?_

_But… Cas never mentioned that. It didn't even cross Dean’s mind, and… he couldn't understand why that made him feel unsettled. “Yeah, he didn't tell me that.”_

_It must have shown in his voice because Sam’s attitude disappear instantly and looked curiously over at his brother. “Do you want to go? I’m sure Cas wouldn't mind.”_

_If that was true, Cas would've asked him. But he didn't. He didn't say anything. “Nah, it’s cool. It’s cool, um… take care of him.”_

_Dean walked away. He didn't want to see Sam looking at him. Or have Sam seeing the dejection in his brothers eyes? Dean didn't know. He just wanted to be alone._

_Later that evening, Dean stayed in his room when he heard the sound of footsteps outside his bedroom door. For a moment, nothing happened. They just stood there, behind the door, Dean waiting for something to happen. Their shadows were present throw the gap under the door and Dean saw them walk away out of sight._

_But they left something behind. Whoever it was that came slid an envelope through the gap, before scampering away in a hurry._

_Dean got up from the bed. He picked up the envelope — it was small, a perfect square — and when he opened it up, his heart leapt at what he saw._

_It was a sonogram._

_Cas was only four months at that point, but the definition is amazing. He could see the outline of the baby — its large head curled over the rest of its tiny body, and if Dean looked closer he might be able to see the shadowy shape of its feet floating in the comfort of its own home._

_Dean couldn't take his eyes off of the picture. He couldn't see any details or get anything else out of it, but… holy crap. That’s a baby._

_His baby._

_And for once in a long time, Dean felt those stirrings of excitement again, just at the picture. This is no longer a prospect anymore. This was happening. So just maybe —_

_Dean shook the thought from his head. No, don’t do this to yourself. Don't do it._

_He ended up putting the sonogram away and tried to put his mind to rest._

_Unsuccessfully._

 

* * *

 

And Dean was right not to let that excitement get the better of him. It was always that perpetual cycle that occurred with him when he gets a shimmer of that dreaded thing called excitement, because it never lasts. Never. Or it crushes him like a ton of bricks.

Sam had taken Cas out for another ultrasound, as requested by his doctor when he reached his fifth month, something that confused Sam because monthly scans were not recommended, but took him, anyway. Dean wasn't asked to go with them. Again. And Sam had given up on trying to talk to him about the baby. There was no point.

They didn't get back until late, though. Sam must have taken him out to help get his mind off things, because life in the Bunker has been weird since the first ultrasound. It was like the tension just got worse from there. How is that possible? But it all came to light that night.

Although Cas couldn't talk to Dean, he had no problem with talking to Sam. He could get more out of him than Dean ever could, even before all of this shit happened. They had a lot more in common, those two were more better suited intellectually because… well, Cas was an angel, Sam got into Stanford. It’s a meeting of minds. Dean barely got his GED. How he and Cas ever got to this point is beyond him.

Maybe they shouldn't have. Because it would've saved them a truck load of pain for the both of them…

_There was a noise that woke Dean up during the night. He opened his eyes, but it was too dark to see anything, but that was not what caught his interest. He could hear muffled noises from his door._

_His room was closest to the library, sound tended to drift from there, but no one was usually up this late. Curious, Dean got out of bed and opened the door as quietly as he could. He tiptoed out, following the noise until he was behind the wall, eavesdropping on the conversation._

_It was Sam and Cas. He would recognise their voices anywhere. Dean glanced over to the corner to see them hanging around. Cas was idly watching over the titles on the shelves, whilst Sam blabbed on about something. There may have been some words he understood, but they were all health related, so Dean presumed they were talking about the pregnancy. Without him. Yeah._

_“You’re half way through your pregnancy now,” Sam said. Dean noticed that his brother was eyeing Cas carefully, as if he was trying to guess him out._

_Cas kept his gaze fixed on the books, his hand slowly wandering over some of the leather-bound editions they had in their collection. “Yes.”_

_“Maybe we should get ready,” Sam continued. He said it in his usual friendly tone, but Dean knew what he was doing. He had that calculated expression on his face that could only mean one thing; Sam was baiting. He was trying to bait Cas out. But Dean had no idea why. “You know, buy some clothes, get a crib… all that stuff.”_

_And then Dean wasn’t confused anymore. Cas’ reaction was the only answer he needed. His hand froze on one of the books, but he didn't pretend to seem interested in them, anymore. His eyes went wide and panicked from his brothers suggestion, but he tried to shake it off. Tried. “So soon? Couldn't we wait at a more appropriate time?”_

_But Sam wasn't so easily fooled. “We have to be prepared. This baby is coming. No matter how much you wish it isn’t.”_

_Cas was eerily silent. His back went rigid the moment Sam said those words, but he didn't say anything. He didn't rebut Sam’s claims, he didn't look horrified — he didn't say anything._

_And, without a second thought, Dean just knew where this was heading._

_“Cas,” Sam asked tentatively. “Do you want this baby?”_

_Cas refused to look Sam in the eye. He distracted himself by staring intently at the titles on the shelves, but he knew he couldn't hide the truth. Not forever. There was no point. “I don’t… not want it.”_

_“But?” Sam guessed._

_Cas inhaled deeply before sighing. He dropped his hand from the shelf and turned to look at Sam, who was waiting patiently. “At the doctor’s office, when we were waiting… That woman kept talking to me and she was so delighted about her chance of motherhood. She kept telling me how she and her husband had been trying for years to get pregnant, and couldn’t believe how blessed she was. How God had given her a miracle after waiting for so long. But I couldn't join in with the excitement. Years of fertility issues and I conceive the first time. How is that fair?”_

_Sam shook his head. “It isn't.”_

_“The joy in her face…” Cas mused, looking back on that moment, but not seeing it with fondness. “She wanted it so badly, and I just felt like an insult to her. But it made me realise. Shouldn't that be me, as well? Shouldn't I be excited and full of joy at the birth of my child?_

_Cas looked down at his bump. His button up shirts no longer fitted him anymore and was wearing regular T-shirts to fit over his extended abdomen. But Cas was seeing something else. He was seeing that only caused him sadness, something that made his eyes begin to brim with tears. “I don’t feel anything, Sam. No joy, no happiness, no excitement… all I feel is dread. And everyday it gets worse the bigger the foetus grows.”_

_“Cas,” Sam began to approach. He took a seat on the table to face him, his face expressing as much sympathy as he could. “Sometimes those maternal feelings don’t kick in straight away. Some mothers need time to get their heads around the idea. It doesn't mean you don’t care.”_

_“I don’t know anymore, Sam. You might be right, but I don’t trust my decision making anymore. Every choice I make seems to end disastrously for everyone.”_

_Dean felt his heart racing against his chest at that admission. He listened even more carefully when Sam asked: “You’re not just talking about the angels, are you?”_

_Dean could see Cas shaking his head at himself. “Think about it, Sam. I am not experienced with children, I still know little of being human, and my family has been exiled from their home while Metatron has taken over. Angels are not inclined to create offspring of their own, there was never any need to procreate to maintain our numbers. Considering everything that is happening right now, have you wondered why I chose to continue with the pregnancy?”_

_It was silent for a moment before the penny dropped. “You did this for Dean? Why?”_

_“When you were in Hell, I used to watch Dean with Lisa and her son. I don’t know why I did it, but it always gave me peace to see how happy and content he was. After all the bad that had happened, he deserved to be happy. He treated Ben like he was his own child. He flourished under the role of caregiver. From what I saw, I assumed Dean wanted children. I was wrong.”_

_Dean held back a painful wince when he felt his chest close up. Because in that moment… Dean couldn't put that into words. It hurt him, but he couldn't make a sound in case of being caught out._

_Sam continued to speak. “He does want children. He does want a family, but our lives don’t allow that for us. You saw how happy Dean was with Lisa, and you saw what happened when he lost them.”_

_“I saw it. But Dean doesn't talk to me about it. He won’t talk to me about anything, no matter how hard I try to get him to open up. He shuts me down every single time.”_

_“That’s Dean for you,” Sam chuckled, obviously trying to lighten the mood. “He never talks about his feelings.”_

_Cas wasn't in mood for lightheartedness. “But what if I want to talk? What if I wanted to talk about my feelings?”_

_“And if Dean did ask, what would you say to him about the baby?”_

_“It’s not just about the baby, Sam,” Cas whispered. Dean almost missed it for a second, but the next sentence was crystal clear, and so were the former angels sadness and sorrow. All the things he desperately wanted to say, but never had to the chance to tell. Except for now. “I miss being an angel. I miss my family, I miss my home, I miss… I miss being treated as an equal.”_

_“Cas, you are equal to us,” Sam objected._

_“No. I’m not. Not to Dean. I have changed in his eyes. I don’t know why. I’m still the same person that he knew before, but… it doesn't seem to matter. I know I am adjusting to humanity, and I know it’s trying on you and Dean, but he treats me like I am a child. I’ve made mistakes, but I have seen the beginning of the world and watched humanity crawl their way into who they are today, but that doesn't matter to him.”_

_Cas took another deep breath, his voice thick from crying. “The first night we had intercourse, Dean made the first move. It caught me off guard, but I let Dean continue because I thought it was what he wanted. It felt good, but in doing it I hoped it would repair the rift between us. It only made things worse.”_

_There was another silence. Dean didn't turn around to check what was happening. He didn't need a mental image of the agony he’s put Cas through. He finally knows too well._

_“And then the pregnancy…” Cas continued. “I took it as another opportunity to redeem myself to him by giving him the one thing he wanted. Or what I thought he wanted. And now I am living with the consequences of my decision.”_

_Sam paused for a moment, digesting the meaning he got Cas’ words. “What do you mean?”_

_Dean heard Cas take in a huge breath, like he was preparing to admit his biggest sin. “Sam, did I make a mistake? Did I make the wrong choice in continuing with the pregnancy? Should I have terminated it when I had the chance?”_

_There was a long silence between them while Sam stayed silent, but it was enough of an answer for both of them._

_Cas sniffled. “But it is too late for that now. Maybe… Maybe I should consider my third option.”_

_Dean couldn't bear listening to anymore. He wiped a hand over his wet cheek and tiptoed back to his own room. He closed the door, got into bed, and pretended like he never took a step out of his room in the first place._

 

* * *

 

So option number three — adoption.

Giving the baby to another family.

A normal family.

A regular family, like Wendy and her old man and their daughters. A family that will sing them lullabies at night, tell them bedtime stories and make sure they are ignorant from the monsters of the world. They would have a mother and father who would dote on their every whim, they will want for nothing, and have a home and friends and the future they would never get with the Winchester.

They will grow up thinking the monster hiding in their closet is just a figment of their imagination — they won’t know anything about demons, or Wendigos, vampires, angels, or the colossal mess that is heaven.

Heck, the only thing the would have to worry about is getting a date for the prom.

They won’t know about Dean.

Or Sam.

Or Cas.

And if they did find out that they had different parents, would they go and find them? Or would they spend the rest of their lives not knowing who they were? An if they did know, it doesn't mean they would want to know him or Cas. The boy or girl who looks like Cas or Dean, walking around out there with a normal, happy life, with parents and friends whose biggest concern is paying the mortgage and finding a date to the prom?

And what could they get with Cas and Dean? Road trips in the car, eating fast-food, hunting monsters, and getting by on credit card scams.

It wasn't a life for him and Sam. How could he do that to his own kid?

_Why the fuck did this have to happen?!_

_Why?_

It was close to closing time soon. Wendy kept looking at her watch as the long hand ticked to the final hour of her shift — 21:49. Eleven minutes. Eleven minutes until Wendy could go home to her family. Her normal life. In eleven minutes, all Dean had to go home to was a chaos.

Dean downed the last remainder of his coffee, letting the heat burn his tongue slightly. He winced at first, but he welcomed it. The burn helped.

He took a quick look at the clock again — 21:50

Ten minutes.

He wondered if Sam had woken up from his hangover yet.

_Sam was never the type to get drunk during the day. That was Dean’s forte. He knew all the places to go to for an early bird bender, even for the bars with the best chicks looking for a midday hook up._

_Cas was resting in his room around that time, and a good thing too because Dean had never seen Sam get that drunk. He was in the library, heading back to his own room when the door to the Bunker opened with a loud bang from someone putting too much pressure on opening it. Dean went back to see what it was and he instantly blanched at what he saw._

_His brother was sloshed._

_Sam was hanging onto the railing for dear life. His eyes were glassy and unfocused when he noticed Dean standing near by, but he didn't pay him any attention. He was too focused on trying to get down the stairs without falling and breaking his neck in the process._

_When he did reach solid ground, Dean rushed over to put his arms around him, and it was a good thing he did. Sam began to sway and he latched onto his brother when his knees gave way. His face fell against his chest, and Sam began to chuckle like an insane asylum patient._

_“Hey, big bro,” Sam garbled in-between giggles._

_Big bro? Holy crap, he really was wasted._

_“Sam?” Dean tried to keep his brother from falling over, but Sam’s long limbs were causing all sorts of trouble, but he stood his ground. “What the hell?”_

_“Dean, you won’t believe it! They have a new selection of cocktails at Rockies Bar. They’re all new! So I tried every single one of them.” Sam kept rambling, getting excited over nothing. “I like the purple nurple best. It’s so… purple!”_

_Dean knows he tried them all. He could smell the booze radiating off of him. He wouldn't be surprised if the stench seeped into his skin for the next few days._

_“Are you drunk?”_

_Sam huffed, like it was an idiotic question to ask. “Yeah. So? Stupid.”_

_“How did you get home?” Dean asked, but a terrifying thought crossed his mind. “Shit, Sammy, tell me you didn't drive.”_

_“Dean…” Sam moaned._

_“Tell me you didn't drive,” Dean asked firmly._

_“I didn’t drive!” Sam sulked and began to pout. “I gotta cab. Keep your hair on.”_

_Sam tried to push Dean away, but in doing so he nearly fell on the floor in doing so. He would've land face first if Dean didn't grab him in time._

_“Whoa, whoa, easy tiger,” Dean hushed. “Let’s get you to bed.”_

_All Sam said in reply was a petulant huff, but he didn't fight Dean when he dragged him to his room. He plonked his ass on the mattress, his body bouncing from the rebound, but he didn't protest. When Dean began to take his shoes off for him, he didn't protest. But the silence lasted a bit too long for Dean’s liking, he glanced up to see if Sam was alright, but he was only met with his brothers steady gaze._

_His jovial, drink induced merriment was gone, and all Dean could see was a sadness he hadn't seen in his brother since for a very long time. Dean wasn't sure how to respond to it, until Sam started slurring again._

_“You are a lucky son of a bitch, you know that? Right?”_

_Dean huffed, going back to taking off Sam’s other boot. “I’m far from lucky, Sam.”_

_“Yes you are. But you are too stupid to see wha’ ya have.”_

_Dean froze. The implication of what Sam was saying had him on edge instantly. “Sam, if you have something to say to me, then say it.”_

_Never underestimate the power of dutch courage, because once Sam had a few, he does not hold back. Not even when he’s in a depressed state, he does not hold back. “When I was at Stanford, I thought my future will be different — Finally be different. I was gonna marry Jess, have a career, have a few kids — I had a plan and I was looking forward to it. I wanted it so badly. Now look at me. I’m thirty-four, most of my ex’s are dead, or tried to kill me, and the life I had dreamed for myself is so far away from me I can barely see it. I’m alone, Dean.”_

_“No, you’re not. You have me.”_

_“That doesn't count!” Sam almost shouted, pushing Dean away, but he barely budged. His strength was lousy when he was bladdered. “After everything we’ve been through… all the pain and the sacrifices and the loneliness… why can’t we get what we want? But you get the chance to have it, but all you are doing is pushing it away. Why?”_

_Dean had to bite down on his tongue, from spilling out the things he has been hiding for a long time. “I can’t answer that, Sammy.”_

_“So I was wrong defending you,” Sam sounded defeated. His eyes were watering up and he closed them in an attempt to fight them back. “You son of a bitch. Damn you! You get to have everything!”_

_Before Dean knew it, Sam was grabbing onto his neck, pulling him forward until Dean was looking Sam straight in the eye. And Dean was forced to see the pain and despair his little brother was feeling, and Dean was compelled to realise that Dean and Cas weren't the only ones who were hurting here. How much Sam was hurting too._

_“Cas is giving you a baby. You’re gonna be a father! And you will be amazing at it, like you were with me. And you don’t want it.”_

_Dean couldn't take anymore of this. He took Sam’s hands off of him, and pushed him back onto the covers. Sam didn't have the energy to fight back. He let Dean manhandle him until he was under the covers and comfortable. It was quiet for a while. Dean was ready to walk out the door when he heard a small whimper behind him, and he found himself frozen on the spot._

_“What about me, Dean? What about my family?”_

_Sam finally slumped into his pillow, letting his eyes close. Dean stayed by his side for the next few minutes, even when Sam’s breaths went deep to tell Dean he was fast asleep._

_The moment Dean walked out that door, he found himself driving to the diner at full speed._

 

* * *

 

It was 21:59 when Dean decided to go home. Mostly because he was getting tired and also for the fact that the diner was closing and they were threatening to kick him out. He saved them the trouble. It was about time he got home.

He grabbed his wallet and left Wendy her usual tip for the coffee, pulling out a few dollar bills and chucking them on the table. But in opening his wallet his eyes land on the one thing he tried to hide from everybody.

He kept the sonogram in the see-through pouch that lets you store you pictures. He still has the one with him, mom, dad and Sammy before she died, but Dean didn't even question it when he stored the sonogram over their faces. So that the first thing he would see is the baby.

He ended up staring at the picture again — he wasn't even aware he was doing it until the boss told him it was time to go. Dean was grateful he didn't say anything about the sadness in his eyes. He just nodded to the guy and Dean got the hell out of there.

He didn't even stay long enough to say goodbye to Wendy. Even she wouldn't be able to ignore his sorrow and finally ask too many questions.

When Dean walked through the Bunker doors the lights were off and it was quiet. Sam must still be sleeping off his hangover, and Cas must be in bed. And Dean knew that was where he should be.

He changed into a pair of sweats and went straight to bed.

He was asleep before he knew it.

 

* * *

  

When Dean woke up, there was something in his room.

He could sense it before he opened his eyes. There was someone creeping in, trying to stay silent, but not silent enough for Dean’s sharp hearing. He was hyper alert before he knew it. His hand began to creep in between his pillow, reaching for the gun he always kept hidden there, his fist gripping it tight and—

“Dean?”

Dean instanlty opened his eyes. He forgot about the gun and jump upright on the bed.

Cas was standing there, his abdomen bigger in his fifth month, but Dean wasn't interested in that. Cas was staring at him in a deranged and crazed manner, and there was something about it that was making Dean feel unsettled. Cas was usually calm and collected — this Cas saw far from it.

“Cas?” Dean mumbled. “What are—”

Before he could finish his sentence, Cas climbed onto the bed and grabbed Dean by the face. The next thing he knew, Cas was latching onto his mouth with a wild fever that took Dean by surprise.

Dean didn't know how to respond. He was frozen under Cas’ touch — usually, he’s the other way. They would’ve been rolling around in the covers faster than you could say sexy time, but something was really wrong. Dean could sense it in the way Cas was holding onto him.

Dean pulled away. “Whoa, Cas—”

But Cas wasn't having any of it. He tried to pull Dean back in, but Dean pushed him back.

“Cas, what’s going on —”

“I want to have sex with you. Isn’t that clear enough?” Cas growled.

Cas tried to pull Dean’s shirt over his head, but Dean kept grabbing Cas’ hands in his to stop him. “Cas, this isn’t a good idea.”

“You never complained before.”

 _Maybe I should have._ “I was wrong, Cas this isn't right—”

“I don’t care anymore,” Cas hissed. He ran a hand over his face in an attempt to calm himself, but it wasn't working. He was becoming more distressed the more they talked. “I just — just make me forget. Please? Just make me forget for a moment, and I won’t ask you for more. Please?”

He should say no. Dean knows he should say no, but Cas was becoming more distraught with every second that passed. He was panting unusually fast, and he was trying to stay relaxed even though something was clearly freaking him out. But what could Dean do? Talk about their feelings?

No, Cas isn't here for that. He already told him why he was here.

Maybe that’s the only solace he can give him. Fucking him hard. And this is the first time they have spoken to each other in weeks. Dean will take all he could get.

He didn't want to think about it too long. Dean gave a slight nod and he completely gave in.

He pulled Cas’ face in and he smashed their lips together. Cas moaned against him, finally crawling onto his lap and wrapping his arms around his shoulders.

All they did was kiss for what felt like a long time. Neither of them were willing to make the first move until Cas suddenly jolted. Then he was faster than lightening. He nearly ripped Dean’s shirt off of him in the process, and once it was finally thrown to the ground, Cas clasped himself against Dean’s front. From where they were positioned, Cas’ bump was pressed against his chest — but every time Dean tried to look down to see it, Cas always pulled him back in before Dean had a chance to look.

Dean eventually got the memo and gave up trying. He let his hand snake in between the band of Cas’ sweat pants, his underwear, until he was right between Cas’ legs. Once he was there he didn't waste any time. He went straight for his clit, rubbing in circles until Cas was keening right against his ear. The moment he heard that moan, Dean was sinking deeper into his own haze of arousal, the same space in his head whenever he was with Cas this way. He kept up the pressure on his clit, going faster with every shudder going through the writhing angel on his lap and —

Something just kicked against his chest.

Something from where Cas’ bump was pressing against him.

Dean instantly broke the kiss. “What was that?”

“Ignore it,” Cas demanded.

Cas went back to sucking on a spot on Dean’s neck, but Dean was struggling to get back into the haze of it all. He definitely felt something. No matter what Cas said, he couldn't ignore it. He shouldn't be doing this. They need to stop—

_Wait… something’s not right._

Dean’s hand was wet, but not in the way it should be. It was beginning to… was it dripping? It was going down to his wrist and soaking his palm. More than it should.

Dean pulled his hand out of Cas’ sweats, glanced down at it, and he instantly froze. Cas didn't seem to catch on to the hunter’s rigidness, or he just didn't care. He kept his attention on Dean’s neck, but Dean wasn't feeling anything other than the panic rising in his gut.

The first thing Dean noticed was the crimson. It felt thick and heavy on his hand and, from the little amount of light they had, it gleamed brightly from the stickiness between his fingers. And there was a lot of it with one big drop landing on his jeans.

_Holy crap._

“You’re bleeding.”

Cas pulled his head back from Dean’s neck. He tried to look him in the eye, but Dean was too petrified by the sight of his hand to look away from it. He felt the moment Cas saw it too because his hands gripped tighter into his shoulders, nearly flinching away from what was happening.

His hand was covered in blood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger for potential miscarriage.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed and please review.
> 
> Also, if anyone notes about Cas saying it is too late for an abortion when he is only four months, this is set in Kansas and I read that they have stricter laws against abortions in the second trimester. I don't know if that is still the case, but I wanted to be as accurate as I could.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a quick update for me. I'm quite impressed with myself.
> 
> Again, not beta read so spelling and grammar mistakes are my fault.

_Answer your friggin’ phone, Sam!_

That damn voicemail is starting to grate his nerves to a fine dust, and Dean was this close to throwing his phone against the wall.

How long does it take to sleep off a hangover? Of all days to go on a bender, it had to be today? Damn it!

Dean has been standing out in the cold for the last five minutes. It was the middle of the night, so the hospital had a steady stream of drunken idiots and the homeless looking for some shelter. Dean wrapped his jacket further around himself whilst shivering in the process. For some reason, because the last five times weren't enough, Dean found himself dialling Sam’s number, and waiting patiently for the dial tone.

He was only met with the same old voice message. It’s Sam. I’m not here, so call me back.

_I’m gonna kick your ass, that’s what I’m gonna do._

Dean was this close to punching the wall, but he can’t cause a scene. Not now. They’re too many people here. He and Cas had arrived just before the swarm came in. It was sheer luck they they were able to get a bed in less then thirty minutes — that, or the giant blood stain growing in his jeans bought them some sympathy. Even the nurses eyes went large when she saw it, and she bumped them up to priority. Thank God, because the bloodstain was getting larger again. Even on the drive over here it was getting larger — Dean was pretty sure he broke twenty traffic laws going at the speed he was, but he didn't give a crap right now. Give him the fine and let them piss off.

Phone call number six was Dean’s limit, and opted for leaving a voicemail. He told Cas he would only be a couple of minutes and he needed to get back to his side. Cas is probably freaking out by now. Once the beep rang on the other side, Dean did not hold back.

“Damn it, Sam, get your head out of your ass! Look, I’m at the hospital. Something’s wrong with Cas. He started bleeding in the Bunker, it wouldn't stop and… It doesn’t matter. We’re at the ER. Smith County Hospital. Get here as fast as you can.”

He ended the call with a huff. He pocketed his cell and rubbed his hands. They were stone cold from the exposure, but he warmed them up and quickly rushed back into the waiting room.

Dean walked past the loud, ailing bodies of sick people and headed straight to Cas’ cubicle. Saturday night hooligans are always the worst. The further away he got from the waiting room, he could still hear their loud hollers following him every where he went. Idiots.

He finally reached Cas’ curtain. He it pulled back and stepped inside, closing it back until they had some level of privacy. Or as much as you could behind a thin piece of material.

The nurse had given Cas a hospital gown — his clothes were covered in blood by the time they got there — and he was laying on the bed, waiting for the doctor to arrive. His hands were folded in front of him, and Dean thought he seemed to be in a heavy mode of contemplation when he walked in. It broke when he looked up at Dean, he could've sworn the tension welled back up into his shoulders. All because it was Dean who walked in.

Ouch.

For a moment, Dean didn't know what to say. Until he remembered the heavy weight of his cell in his pocket. That seemed like the best thing to talk about. Or the only thing. “I’m still having trouble getting hold of Sam.”

“That’s unlike him,” Cas noted matter of factly.

Dean shook his head. “You didn't see him earlier. The guy was pretty hammered.”

Cas cocked his head to the side. “Hammered?”

Oh, yeah. There is still some lingo Cas hasn't gotten a hang of yet. “Uh, Sam drank too much. He’s probably still sleeping it off.”

That only made Cas frown even more. “Sam doesn't have a tendency to drink much alcohol.”

Dean chuckled slightly. “Yeah, well he’s going to regret that later.”

Because Sam is definitely going to have a killer headache in the morning. Or now. If he’s awake.

But without Sam in the room, that meant Dean was alone. With Cas. And going through the worst situation possible.

When Cas was in the car with him… it was like he couldn't hear Dean. No matter how much Dean tried to talk to him, Cas wouldn't answer. Dean assumed it was because he was in shock, but ever since they got to the hospital, Cas has been… on edge. He hardly spoke, wouldn't even look at Dean, or anybody else for that matter, even when a nurse took him to a cubicle and helped him change into his gown. The whole time, he didn't speak.

It’s been nothing but silent between them for the last few minutes, and it was making Dean uncomfortable with every unnerving second. Dean didn't think he could take it anymore, and so he tried anything he could to make it bearable. Even if it meant talking.

“How are you feeling, Cas?”

Cas gave a cursory glance down at his pelvis. He seemed satisfied with what he saw and leaned back against the headrest. “The bleeding appears to have stopped.”

“That’s good,” Dean nodded, but that wasn't what he was asking. “But how are you _feeling?”_

That seemed to break Cas out of his head for a moment. He gave Dean an odd look. He clearly wasn't expecting Dean to ask that question and Dean realises that from getting into the hospital and being here now, this is the most they have spoken to each other in weeks. It was a step for both of them.

Cas looked down at his folded hands on his lap and took a deep breath. “I want to go home.”

“Not yet, I’m afraid. You still need to be checked out by the doctor. Whenever they arrive.”

Cas’ only response was a nod. He began to pick at his hospital gown and stared into space.

There was nothing said between them for a long time, and Cas clearly wasn't in the right mind to talk. Dean shuffled on his feet, trying to alleviate some of the awkward tension hanging heavy between them.

Dean cleared his throat. “Do you, um… want me to get something?”

“I do not require anything.”

“Okay, um… I’m gonna get a coffee — unless you want me to stay, that is.”

Cas didn't even look up at him. “You can go ahead.”

Dean nodded and pulled back the curtain. There was a vending machine nearby, but it was right next to the damn waiting room with the damn drunkards — if Dean had his gun with him, he would've shot them all dead just to get them all to shut the hell up. Inconsiderate dickheads. One of them was almost passed out by the doorway, while the other was trying to make out with the vending machine.

Yeah. Dean’s not going anywhere near that.

But the coffee machine wasn't anywhere to be seen, so he had no idea where that was. Dean looked around to see if there was anyone he could ask, but the best he could do was conscious inebriates, green invalids, and busy nurses who did not look like they wanted to be spoken to. Besides, from what he was hearing from their future patient lists in the waiting room, they didn't need anymore of the extra stress.

Dean’s been drunk before, but Jesus. People are idiots when they're drunk.

_“Dude, am I bleeding? I don’t feel anything. No, jumping off the bar table did not cause me to hit my head…”_

_“Hannah, I love you, bestie. If we kissed, does that mean we can taste the rainbow?”_

_“The unicorn was real, man! His name was Sparkle and I tried to follow him, so we can be together in Wonderland!”_

Yeah, Dean’s pretty certain that guy’s had more than just alcohol.

_“If I ate, like, ten pop rocks and downed a bottle of schnapps, would that be a suicide attempt?”_

_“Come on! Let’s go back to the bar. I might be able to get that guys number! We had a connection!”_

_“I don’t know what’s wrong with him. My brother called, told me he was bleeding, and to come straight away. That’s why I’m here…”_

Wait, Dean knew that voice..

“Sam?”

Sam was talking to the receptionist — or close to shouting at him — and he looked a little worse for wear. He had red rimmed eyes with heavy bags under them, he was still wearing the same clothes he had on from his drinking binge so he still smelled like a grubby old bar, but Dean didn't care. At that moment, he was willing to thank the heavens for seeing his brother here.

Sam looked up from the receptionist and right at his brother. “Dean!”

Dean didn't waste anytime and pulled his brother into a much needed hug. Sam grunted from the force of it, but he didn't push Dean away. From the strength and effort he was constricting him with, Sam could probably guess that Dean needed it more than he realised.

The moment he broke the hug, Dean punched Sam in the arm. “Where the hell were you? I kept calling but you wouldn't answer your damn phone!”

“I was on my way,” Sam protested, but the sound of his own voice made him wince. He closed his eyes, rubbed his temple, and flinched away from the bright lights. Yep, definitely hungover. “I hopped a cab when I got the first voice mail. And don’t shout at me. Everything is shouting at me.”

“Too many nurples?” Dean smirked.

“What?” Sam seemed genuinely confused by that reference, and Dean realised that maybe Sam didn't remember much of this afternoon. He might not even remember talking to him when he got home. “Never mind, you — where is Cas?”

“He’s over here.”

Dean showed Sam the direction to where Cas was in his hospital cubicle, and his little brother followed him like a lost puppy. A severely hungover lost puppy. Dean doesn't think he’s ever seen the poor guy that sorry for himself. He doubted Sam will ever touch another purple nurple again.

By the time they made it to the cubicle, Dean could hear some low chattering from behind the curtain. He could discern Cas’ voice, but not the others. A moment of panic weld up in Dean’s chest, and he pulled back the curtain in a rush.

He didn't have to be concerned — Cas was talking to a nurse and they both jumped at Sam and Dean’s shock presence.

“Sam, you’re here,” Cas’ voice shuddered in a way that made it sound as if he was close to breaking down into tears, but Dean detected the relief he felt at the sight of Sam. For a tiny moment, Dean felt a hint of jealousy at that implication, but he held it down. This isn't about his petty feelings. Not now.

Sam made it over to Cas’ side and placed a hand on his shoulder. Cas turned to him wide-eyed and frightened. “I don’t want to be here. I want to leave.”

“We can’t. We need for you to be checked out first.”

“But I am no longer bleeding,” Cas asserted.

“Cas, you shouldn't have been bleeding in the first place. That’s a cause for concern.”

From the corner of the room someone cleared their throat. They all turned their gaze to the elderly nurse dressed in scrubs with the laughter lines and crow feet watching the scene with interest. She had a clipboard pressed to her chest, and gave everyone a small smile. “Should I come back later— ”

“Oh, sorry,” Sam apologised. Even with a killer hangover, he could still act like a polite and friendly choir boy. “We didn't mean to ignore you. I’m Sam Winchester.”

Sam extended his hand out and the nurse took it in a shake. “I’m Donna. I’ll be attending here. I’m guessing you are Castiel’s partner?”

Her question was directed at Sam without a hint of doubt. Sam frowned at that. His mind wasn’t fully functional yet, but he got the gist when it did. “What? No! No, we’re friends. Just friends. I’m the baby’s uncle, in fact.”

“I’m the father,” Dean offered. It might have been small and no louder than a whisper, but Dean didn't care. He was to busy trying to hide the anger roaring in his pit at the mistake Donna made. But it wasn't her fault. It’s not as if Cas is as comfortable around him as he is with Sam. Anyone could've easily make that assumption.

“Oh, okay,” Donna recovered. _She has a good poker face going on,_ Dean thought. _Maybe it’s from experience. She probably think’s she’s heard weirder stories. If only she knew how deep this rabbit hole goes._ “The doctor will be with you shortly. I just want to get some information down so that he can be prepared. Is that alright with you, Castiel?”

Cas seemed a bit caught off guard at that question. He probably wasn't expecting Donna to ask him directly, but he shifted in his seat under her intense stare. “Oh, um…yes.”

Donna gave him a smile. One that was way too bright and peppy for Dean’s liking. She clicked her pen from the clipboard, ready to write down everything Cas said. “Super. How far along are you?”

“Five months,” Cas answered,

“Twenty-three weeks, exactly,” Sam clarified.

Donna wrote that down. “Now, Castiel, when did you start bleeding?”

“I believe it to be about an hour ago, I assume?”

Cas looked over to Dean for help and the hunter nodded over to Donna. She quickly wrote that down without hesitation, until she moved onto the next question.

“And I’m guessing this is the first time it’s happened?”

Cas nodded. “Yes.”

Donna jotted that down on the clipboard. “Do you feel any pain at all?”

“No. I didn't feel it until Dean…”

Cas drifted off. Dean kept his eyes down, but he could feel Sam’s heavy gaze on him. Judging. Questioning. Dean didn't want to know.

“Nurse,” Cas asked, his eyes looking up at Donna. “What does it mean… if I’m bleeding?”

Donna didn't say anything. She probably didn't want to jump the gun on a diagnosis yet, or didn't want to provide false hope, in case… in case of the worst. It was Sam who broke the ice. “It might not mean anything, Cas. I mean, a lot of people bleed during a pregnancy, isn't that right, Donna?”

Donna nodded. “It’s very common. Little amounts of spotting are usually no cause for alarm.”

Cas snapped in frustration. “But it wasn't little amounts! Sam, be honest with me. What does it mean?”

Dean noticed the exchange between Sam and Donna. It was subtle, but he knew what that look meant. “Um, Cas…”

The more Sam refused to say anything, the less patient Cas became. To Dean’s surprise, Cas turned to stare at him, begging for answers. “Dean, what does it mean?”

Dean knew he shouldn't tell him. Keep his mouth shut and let Sam or Donna do the talking. But the way Cas stared at him, his eyes desperate, and pleading… Dean couldn't handle it anymore.

“Cas, um… with the amount of blood you lost, uh… you might have had a miscarriage.”

There was something in Cas’ eyes that just… Dean wasn't sure how to put it into words, but it was almost as if something… broke in him. “Nurse, is that true?”

Sam quickly cut in. “No! Might! Might, Cas. It _might_ have been a miscarriage. We don’t know anything. Not yet.”

“It’s best not to make any assumptions until the doctor gets here and performs an ultrasound, but for now, I don’t want to jump the gun,” Donna said.

But Cas didn't seem convinced. No matter how much Sam and Donna tried to calm his nerves, Cas couldn't seem to shake that horrible feeling in his gut, and Dean was certain he wasn't listening to them anymore.

Donna kept blathering on and on to them for what felt like forever to Dean, but there was still no sign of the friggin’ doctor — where the hell is he?! By the time Donna got her questions, she smiled brightly and left them alone to get the doctor. _Finally._

Dean had just stepped out for a moment to collect himself, but even that was short-lived. A heavy hand grabbed his shoulder, pulling him around until Dean was facing his little brother. His pissed off little brother.

“What the hell was that?” Sam growled.

“What was what?” Dean asked.

Sam sneered. “It might have been a miscarriage? You don’t know that.”

Dean frowned. “He asked me for the truth. I wasn't going to lie and tell him everything’s alright.”

“Things might be alright, Dean. You don’t know what that bleeding means. No one knows what that bleeding means! Not yet!” Sam shouted.

“You weren't there, Sam! You didn't see what happened.”

“No. I didn’t, but that does not mean we can put him through what just happened. If that wasn't a miscarriage, the stress alone could've triggered another bleed. What you did was irresponsible!”

“And giving him false hope?” Dean argued. He ran his hand through his hair, taking a deep breath to calm down. “How is that not irresponsible? Be realistic. There’s no way that bleed could not have been a miscarriage.”

Sam didn't say anything, but a dark look passed over his features. He shook his head at himself, and stared at Dean with fury.

“Right. Or is that what you’re hoping for?”

Dean frowned. “What did you just say to me?”

“It solves all your problems, doesn't it?” Sam said with absolute venom dripping from every word. “No baby, no responsibilities, I bet you’ve just been wishing for something like this to happen and chalk it up to a simple act of mother nature. We haven’t even confirmed it’s gone yet, maybe we could throw a party and dance over the grave — ”

Before Dean knew it, he had his brother pinned against the nearest wall, hands fisted up in his shirt, ready to fight him if he must.

There were people watching them, one of them going over to security, but Dean didn't care. All he could see was red. Sam was watching him carefully. He might have been surprised by Dean’s reaction — like he said, Dean wasn't paying attention. He was too riled up.

“Don’t you dare… I am many things, but don’t you dare…”

Dean couldn't get the words out. He didn't know how to, or what he wanted to say. In the end, it didn't matter.

He could hear Donna shouting at them from down the hall. The closer her voice got to them, the more Dean hands released Sam’s shirt.

Donna was waving security away and all the onlookers trying to get a peak of the drama unfolding. Cockroaches. Damn them all. The next thing he knew Donna was cajoling them both, something about how this is a hospital, there are sick people here, and all that bullshit — Dean wasn't listening. His ears were too cloudy for him to hear anything.

The only thing that brought him back to reality was the mention of Cas’ name in a jumble of nonsense.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Mr. Winchester…” Donna began, trying to remember his name, until he remembered that he never gave it to her.

“Dean.”

“Dean, I want to know why you and your brother thought scaring my patients were a good idea.”

Dean wasn't in the mood to be told off by a Nurse Ratched, but now was not the time. _Get it together man._ “I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.”

“How’s Cas?” Sam asked.

“Spooked. Do you mind telling me what all that was about?”

“Okay, look, Donna, I don't give a rats ass what you are thinking right now. I want to know where the damn doctor is so he can help my friend and stop putting us in limbo right now!”

“Shut the hell up, Dean!” Sam hissed.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Dean warned. “Just get that damn doctor, confirm the miscarriage, so that I can take Cas home.”

That was instantly the wrong thing to say because a pained expression crossed over his brothers face at the mention of the miscarriage, but it wasn't from the fight they had earlier. It was… something else. When Dean turned to Donna, she had a forlornness look as well… what does that mean?

“What is it?” Dean asked.

“Taking Cas home won’t be that easy,” Sam said with somber. “If there is a miscarriage.”

“Why? Wouldn’t it just… come out on it’s own?”

From what Dean knew of miscarriages, there was a lot of bleeding and the… the pregnancy went with the bleeding. That’s what he got from TV show, anyhow. But Sam and Donna wouldn't look at him. They didn't say anything, and Dean knew there was more that he didn't know.

“Mr. Winchester,” Donna began, and Dean didn't like that fact that her demeanour has instantly gone from happy and friendly to cool and professional. This isn't good. “If… I’m afraid the process will be more gruelling.”

A horrible sensation pooled in the pit of Dean’s stomach. “What are you talking about?”

“Since the pregnancy has progressed to twenty-three weeks… if we don’t find a heartbeat, the foetal death will be classified as a stillbirth. There are other options, but the best way to evacuate the uterus is to induce Castiel for him to go into labour.”

“Labour?” Dean stuttered. That one word — one word — sent an icy chill through him and he suddenly felt dizzy because… oh God. _Oh, God_. All of a sudden, Dean couldn't breathe, couldn't think, he couldn’t… “You — you want him to deliver a dead baby?”

“Dean,” Sam said.

“What the hell is wrong with you? You don’t make a person go through that. There’s gotta be another way, I — ”

Dean,” Sam repeated, placing a hand on his shoulder.

But Dean shook it off. He couldn't — he couldn't handle that touch. He couldn’t be around — he can’t be here. “I, uh… I need to…”

Dean took some steps back and he ended up bolting down the hall at full speed.

Dean didn't listen to Sam calling out to him. He just had to get out of there. Now.

 

* * *

 

It was a miracle that the bathroom happens to be empty. The last thing Dean needed was an audience for this.

Dean has spent the last fifteen minutes trying to scrub off the dried up and crusted blood on his hands. He didn't have much time to wash it off when he had discovered Cas bleeding. He was too focused on getting him to the hospital. He had forgotten it was there until he splashed water in his face and was met with pink droplets dripping down his cheek and down his neck.

Dean must have used half the soap dispenser trying to get the stains off, but nothing seemed to be working. The blood… it just wouldn't _move._

He was getting more desperate to get it off. Dean added more pressure, turned up the hot water, grabbed the paper towels, but nothing seemed to work.

“Dean?”

Dean sped up on lathering up his hand, ignoring the pain he felt when he brought his nails into it.

“Dean, stop.”

But it seemed to be working. His nails were making a difference, so he put more pressure into it and—

_“Dean.”_

A hand grabbed his shoulder and Dean saw his brother standing by his side. Sam turned the faucet off and pulled out some new paper towels for Dean’s hands and covered them up.

Dean didn't know what to say. He just stood there patiently whilst Sam threw away the soggy paper and applied dry ones instead. Sam didn't say another word for what felt like forever, and Dean looked down at himself when he felt the tears begin to sting. “I — I couldn’t get the blood out.”

“Dean, it’s okay.”

“It’s not okay!” Dean whined. The tears were on the precipice of falling and so he blinked rapidly to keep them at bay. “None of this is okay.”

Sam took a deep breath and exhaled. From the way he was blinking as well, his little brother seemed close to falling apart, as well. “We don’t know that. We don’t know if Cas has lost the baby.”

“But the blood—”

“No, no,” Sam interrupted. He placed his large palm on the side of his neck. He lifted Dean’s gaze so that he was staring straight into his brothers eyes. “Stop thinking about that. We need to stop that. We. Don’t. Know. We don’t know what has happened, but Cas needs us right now. He needs you. Whatever crap you are feeling about this, all the shit you put him through — put it aside and be there for him. He needs us. Can you do that? I need to know that you can do that.”

 _I don't know if I can_ , Dean wanted to say but Sam’s words were having a sooting effect. He didn't want to be in his own head right now, so he ended up nodding. “Okay.”

“Yeah?” Sam sounded relieved.

Dean nodded with more confidence. “Okay… okay. I can do that.”

“Good,” Sam said, wiping his cheek and it dawned on Dean that Sam was actually crying as well. _Oh Sam…_ “Come on, the doctor is with Cas. He’s waiting for us.”

“Let’s go,” Dean said, but then he caught a glimpse of his hands again. “Oh, wait. I still have blood all over me. I gotta get it off.”

“Dean, the blood is off. Your hand’s red ‘cause you rubbed it raw.”

“…Oh.”

 

* * *

 

In the end, Sam ended up guiding Dean back to Cas’ cubicle like a skittish lamb, but it was what Dean needed in that moment. He was willing to let his brother keep him together right now. It was what he needed, more than he was ready to let on.

When Sam pulled back the curtain, they were met with Cas on the bed, but there was someone else. Donna was nowhere to be seen, but a man in his sixties with a beard and doctors coat was sat by his side. They seemed to be deep in conversation when the brothers made their entrances. The doctor looked up, and gave them a warm smile.

“Hello, gentlemen,” the doctor greeted, extending his palm to shake hands. “I’m Dr. Eli Brag, and I assume you are the Winchester’s? Castiel has been telling me all about you.”

Sam took the hand and shook. “I’m Sam.”

“If you’re Sam, then you must be Dean,” Dr. Brag offered his hand to Dean and he wordlessly took it. “I heard you had a Hulk moment with the lovely Donna. Have you gone back to Banner yet, or do I have to get another Avenger to calm you down?”

_Oh, crap, don’t tell me we’ve got a wise ass. I’m not in the mood for this._

“Look, doc, can we just get on with this?” Dean sounded more tired than angry.

Luckily, the doctor didn't seem offended. “Well, if everyone is ready.”

Dr. Brag wordlessly went to a machine on Cas’ right side. The device was on. It had a blank image that was waiting to show something, but Brag grabbed the wand that was attached to it.

_Holy crap, it’s the ultrasound machine. That’s gonna tell us... what happened._

“You probably know the drill by now. If you could lift up the gown…”

Cas didn’t need to be asked twice. He lifted up the gown, using the blankets on the bed to cover his lower half. He pulled the thin material over his bump, his belly exposed — it’s gotten so big. Even his belly button is starting to stick out. Whoa. Dean was not expecting that.

Cas flinched when Brag squeezed a pack of blue cold jelly just underneath his belly button. Brag placed the wand over the skin, and began rubbing the tip in small careful circles.

The moment wand touched bump, the screen lit up.

The black screen began to morph with blotchy white and grey lines and shapes. Once Brag got to the location he wanted, the image became a little less distorted, and more defined.

“Okay, this is the uterus…” Brag observed.

Dean didn't know if he could look anymore. The more the image cleared up, the more he could see it.

The figure of the baby came onto the screen, and Dean couldn't help but choke up when he saw how different it looked from the ultrasound he had in his wallet — back then it resembled more of a sea monkey, but this… it looked more like a baby. Its head was slightly larger, and if Dean looked closer, he swears he could see its finger and toes —

No. He can’t. He can’t look anymore. Not if it's…

Dean noticed from his peripheral vision that Sam was biting his fingernail in nervous anticipation. The waiting was killing them both, but Brag didn't seem to notice them.

“Here is the baby, and there…” Brag drifted off.

Brag pressed on a few buttons on the ultrasound machine…

And suddenly there was an echoing thud that filled the silence.

Brag smiled and isolated the image. “Is a very strong heartbeat.”

Sam let go of his finger nail. He looked up at the screen with eagerness. “There is?”

“Yep. Looks like this little guy isn't going anywhere.”

And Dean could see it. In the baby’s chest is a small black mass that was pumping away — and there was movement! The baby’s arm had stretched out, followed by its legs kicking slightly, before curling back up into its little ball of safety.

It was the smallest thing but Dean has never felt so much relief in all his life. So much so that his knees threatened to give out underneath him. But he didn't care, because… because…

_Oh, thank God! Thank God, thank God, thank God…._

“So everything is okay?” Cas asked. Dean detected the hint of relief in his tone as he looked up at Brag for answers.

“Yep, looks like everything is going just…”

But the doctor didn't finish.

When Dean looked to see what was up, Brag was staring intently at the screen, but it wasn't focused on the baby. It was focused on a larger grey mass. Dean couldn't make out what it was, but the look on the docs face made Dean’s blood go cold.

“Is everything okay, doc?” Dean asked.

“Yep, just need to check up on something. I’ll be back in a jiffy.”

Dean was about to say something. Protest, demand an answer — anything!

But Brag was gone before he could.

 

* * *

 

It was about twenty minutes before the doc came back.

In those minutes leading up to it, Dean had been pacing back and forth in the small cubicle, over and over again whilst Sam tried to calm Cas’ newfound nerves. It was like some sort of loop. Dean’s anxiety only seemed to fuel Cas’ uneasiness and Sam’s apprehension to the point where even talking was becoming difficult. The moment Brag came back in, the three of them felt a break in the tension.

_Finally!_

But Dean was still pissed. Why did everyone insist on making them wait? “What the hell, doc? You can’t leave us hanging like this!”

“Oh, shut up, you drama queen,” Brag said.

_…Okay._

Doc has attitude.

Dean didn't even have time to think up a response before he was being pushed to the side so that Brag can go to Cas.

The doc was different around Cas, though. He was a stubborn bastard to Dean, but he was all compassion for Cas. Maybe because he is his patient, or maybe he just doesn't like the look of Dean’s face.

Cas was watching Brag approach him until he was close enough. “Doctor, is everything okay?”

Brag grabbed a seat next to the bed. He had a file with him, and started going through the pages. “Castiel, I’m very glad you came in today.”

Sam’s head whipped up in interest at the implication of the doctors words. “Why? Did you find something?”

Brag took a moment to ruminate over his words, as if trying to find the best way to say this. “As you know, we performed an ultrasound to check on the baby — everything was fine. The little guy is doing great. However, I did discover an abnormality. In fact, it’s the cause of the bleeding you suffered, Castiel.”

Cas looked concerned. “What abnormality?”

“During the ultrasound, the location of the placenta was not where it should have been. In a regular pregnancy, the placenta is located at the top of the womb, but for you it’s located at the bottom. It’s a condition called placenta previa. The problem with this is that the placenta is blocking the birth canal. So when B day comes, there will be no way for the baby to get out during the normal route.”

“So, what does that mean?” Sam asked.

“For now, it might not mean anything. As the baby grows, so does the womb, meaning there is a chance that the placenta may move back from the cervix. It might not even be a problem in the next few weeks.”

_Might not — might not be a problem?_

“And if it is? He was bleeding, for crying out loud!” Dean pointed out.

Brag wasn't pleased by Dean’s attitude, but he ignored him and directed his answer to Cas. “And if it doesn't resolve itself by then, I will have to schedule you for a caesarean section. If the previa is still present when you are getting close to your due date, it will not be possible to have a vaginal birth.”

“Why? What would happen if Cas gave birth before than?” Sam asked.

Brag waved it off. “Oh, that will be avoided with proper monitoring—”

But Dean wasn't having any of it. “Doc, what would happen?”

“Dean, that’s enough,” Sam warned.

“Let’s just say it’s a result we want to avoid. But I don’t want to freak anybody out. Besides, I’m sure Cas wants to be entertained with thoughts of taking his baby home, late night bottle feeds and all the dirty diapers he can think of.”

Cas’ body language instantly changed. He dropped his gaze down to his hands and avoided Brag’s optimistic smile. “We’re placing the baby up for adoption,” Cas said flatly.

 _Oh… oh yeah._ For a moment, one tiny moment… Dean forgot about that.

“Well, it’s not my business to pry,” Brag replied. He looked at the brothers. “It’s been a very long night for Castiel. I’m pretty sure he would like to go home now.”

Dr. Brag gave Cas a little smile and patted him on the shoulder before making his way out.

Cas called out to him. “But why do I have it? I’ve been careful.”

Brag smiled in sympathy. “There’s no definitive cause for it, but there are certain risk factors. You are on the older side, but you’re medical history is good. This isn't something you have done, Castiel. It’s just one of those things. But I will take care of you. I can promise you that.”

And Brag was gone. The moment they were alone, Sam dug into his pockets and grabbed out his phone. “Placenta previa? How did our doctor not pick this up before?”

Sam was close to going on a full on rant, but Dean intervened. “Sam, can’t you do that later?”

Dean nodded over to Cas, and Sam saw what Dean was referring to.

Cas was pulling the gown over his bump again, but he was barely keeping it together. His rubbed his hands over his eyes, looking very distressed at everything that has been happening.

After everything that has been happening tonight, it hadn't occurred to Dean that Cas might not understand what was going on. Everything with the baby, the bleeding… it wasn't until Dean had rushed him to the hospital that Cas clocked on that something was wrong. And after the roller coaster of emotions that they've been through, Dean was surprised that Cas was able to keep it together ‘til now.

But he was breaking. Dean could see that. And Sam could too.

Sam was able to tamper his anger for a moment and nodded to Dean. “I’ll see if we can go get discharged.”

Yeah, the sooner they got home, the better.

 

* * *

 

Sam was able to get the discharge papers signed and he was getting the car ready at the front for Cas and Dean.

By the time they were ready to go, Cas was dressed in a pair of sweats Dean was able to buy at the nearest store. There was no way Dean could let him walk out of here like a Walking Dead reject, and Cas looked traumatised by the sight of the blood stained fabrics, so no. Dean wasn't going to force him into them. This night has been horrifying enough.

When Dean pulled back the curtain, Cas was shucking on his trench coat over his clothes and Cas asked: “Are we prepared to leave?”

“The car’s outside,” Dean answered. “Is there anything else you need?”

“I don’t want to stay here much longer than I have to,” Cas whispered.

_You’re not the only one._

“Okay,” Dean nodded. “Let’s go.”

Cas seemed relieved at the thought of getting out of here. He was closing up the last few buttons on his trench coat (it was stretching over his bump snuggly. It won’t be able to fit much longer done up like that) when Cas froze.

His eyes were wide and surprised, but Dean was instantly by his side. “Cas? What’s wrong?”

Cas didn't seem to be listening. He looked down at his bump, but he didn't seem terrified. In fact, Cas seemed… consoled by it. Some of the tension that had been weighing on him since they got here was completely gone from his shoulders. “Nothing is wrong. It… it’s moving again.”

Dean’s eyebrows almost rose to his hairline. “Again?”

Cas nodded. “I haven't… not since before the bleeding.”

 _Before the bleeding… wait?_ “Is that what I felt when we…”

“Yes.”

_Holy crap… he felt it. He felt his baby move._

Dean was close to smiling like an idiot, but one look at Cas held that smile back.

There was something conflicted in Cas’ face that twisted his features and clouded his eyes with such _despair_ , and in that moment, Dean had never seen his friend so defeated.

“Cas, are you okay?” Dean asked.

Cas’ voice was tight and controlled. “Dr. Brag says I am well.”

“No, Cas. Are you okay?”

But Cas didn't answer him. He wouldn't look at Dean — he didn't seem to be looking at anything at all. He didn't say anything. If he did, Dean wasn't sure he knew what to say, or how to put it into words. He didn't need to.

Dean didn't need Cas to tell him the pain he was in. He was the reason he was feeling it.

Without a word, Dean wrapped his arms around Cas, and the moment he had the former angel embraced to his chest, Cas let out the most heart-wrenching sobs he had ever heard.

“Shh, it’s okay, Cas,” Dean soothed.

His words didn't do anything to calm Cas down, but that was fine. When Cas began to tremble, Dean wrapped him tighter in his embrace, resting one hand on the back of his head while the other left soothing circles inbetween his shoulder blades. Cas’ cries became muffled against his shoulder, and Dean could feel wet patches on his shirt, but he didn't care… he just didn't care.

“Let it out. Just let it all out…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stillbirths have different definitions for some places. In the UK, a stillbirth is classified as a foetus that dies after the twenty-four week mark, while in the states it's twenty weeks. There was somewhere else that defined it at twenty-eight weeks, but I'm not sure where that one is.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed and please tell me what you think. xx


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's two a.m. This is the longest chapter I've written so far for this fic. I'm ready to sleep.
> 
> All spelling a nd grammar mistakes are my fault, blah blah blah -- you get the drift.
> 
> This is gonna be a heavy one.

Did you know placenta previa is a lot more dangerous than it sounds?

The placenta, the source of the baby’s nutrition and life, gets the most of it’s supply on the roof of the womb where it has the best blood flow through the umbilical cord to the baby. Placenta previa means the placenta is at the bottom, covering the exit route for the baby to get out.

Dean’s done his homework. He thinks he knows more of the subject than anybody else so far, he might even give the doctors a run for there money, and there was a lot that Dr. Brag refused to divulge to him and Cas at the hospital. Considering the context at the time, maybe it was the best thing.

Placenta preiva is, surprisingly, very common.

When placenta previa is found before the twenty week mark, the doctors don't see it as much of a concern. Like Brag said, as the womb expands, the placenta moves with it. There’s always hope that the placenta will move out of the way to ensure a safe delivery.

But it comes in stages, too. There is partial placenta previa, when the placenta is only covering half the cervix once the cervix starts to dilate, and then there is complete placenta previa, where the placenta is completely blocking the cervix.

Dean got Cas’ records. It says that he has complete placenta previa.

And it turned out bleeding was fairly common around that stage since the placenta is so low, so the doctors recommend “pelvic rest”, meaning no activities or strenuous exercise that could provoke another bleed.

And there is no way that baby is coming out the regular route.

Dean also did some research on that and most of the sites refused to disclose that little piece of information, but Dean was persistent. He kept searching and searching until he finally found the answer that sent a chill down his spine.

The placenta doesn't actually move around. It’s attached to the uterine wall, so it’s stuck there until the baby is born, but when that person has this condition… the baby would try and rip through the placenta, but that sucker is strong. It’s not an easy thing to do.

After many accounts of what could happen, Dean had to stop. He got the picture. If Cas gave birth before the c-section, the baby could die from lack of oxygen, and Cas could die from a massive haemorrhage caused by the ruptured placenta.

Like he said, it was a good thing Brag refused to divulge much information. All Dean could think about was the worst scenario possible.

But like Brag said, it might not be a problem.

But then Cas reached twenty-four weeks, then twenty-five weeks, twenty-six, twenty-seven…

They had an ultrasound when Cas reached twenty-eight weeks, the seven month mark— it was still there.

It was getting closer to Cas needing a c-section with every day that went by, but there hasn't been another bleed. Not yet, anyway. That was a huge relief. Dean didn't know how Cas would react if he had to go through that again.

Because ever since that hospital trip… something has been off.

It was Cas. Since that scare he’s been… Dean didn't know how to describe it, but his attitude seemed to change from the way it was before, mostly towards the baby. It began from the moment they returned to the Bunker. Cas wanted to go back to his room and sleep. Neither of the brothers said anything against it. It had been a stressful night for all of them, even Dean was feeling the heavy weight of exhaustion on his mind. He was surprised he was still awake, but Cas was carrying a baby. If he was eating for two, he damn sure was sleeping for two, as well…

Dean didn't see him until noon the next day. He came padding in with his pjs and prepared his own breakfast (or lunch? Brunch? Whatever), and tried his best to avoid Sam’s steady stream of questions. _How is he? How is he feeling? Is the baby okay? Do you want to talk?_ You know, Sam’s usual girly questions.

Cas would answer them politely but try and end the conversation as subtly as he could. He still seemed a little freaked out, but cooperative. He still didn't want to talk. He didn't once try to talk to Dean. Well, Dean didn't try to talk to him either, so it was a fair reason. They didn't talk, didn't look at each other, they didn't even acknowledge the others existence. And not once did they try and bring up what happened before the bleed. They just went back to their regular method of not ever talking about it.

That didn't mean that Dean couldn't see what was going on. How could he not? Cas used to be an angel, an emotionless killing machine, but as he human he feels like the rest of us.

When Cas left the hospital, Dr. Brag wrote a list of things for Cas to follow in order to have a safe pregnancy, and Cas took those orders seriously down to the last letter. Funnily enough, most of them were dietary.

No soft cheese, no raw eggs, no vitamin A, no fish, no unpasteurised milk, no caffeine — How do you live without caffeine? Dean would be dying without that stuff if he didn't get his kick everyday, but Cas seemed to be taking it in his stride. He took the doctors word like it was gospel.

And then there were the vitamins, the ones he could take: Iron, Calcium, Folic Acid, Vitamin D, but isn't that a little redundant when you’re starting at six months? Dean doesn't know. He’s not a doctor, but Cas takes them everyday without fail. He’s never missed a dose once. He even writes them down on a little notepad just to make sure he remembers.

They were just little things. Anybody would make those changes with a baby on the way. Even if they weren't intending on keeping it in the end, they still want to make sure the baby is healthy. Maybe that’s why Dean didn't think much of it at first. It was only a small thing.

Dean kept entertaining that thought for as long as he could. It had to be that. Not when Cas kept saying so many things about it, but he couldn't keep denying the fact that Cas was starting to act otherwise.

One night when Dean couldn't sleep, he made his way over to the kitchen to grab a late night snack when he noticed, from the corner of his eye, that Cas’ bedroom door was open. It was only ajar but enough to let some light out. It was unusual for Cas to be awake. It was three am. He’s usually a heavy sleeper, especially since the pregnancy leaves him exhausted most of the time. For him not to be asleep had Dean instantly on edge, and before he knew it he was heading over to Cas’ room.

Dean peered through the open space, but his nerves calmed a little at what he saw. Cas was pacing around the room, shuffling on bare feet in the dim lighting. His hands were placed on his hips, and it made his extended abdomen seem larger in that pose. His hair was like a dishevelled nest, and his bed was a mess too, so he must have been tossing and turning before giving up. He didn't even notice Dean’s presence by the door.

“Cas?” Dean took a step inside, his voice no louder than a whisper.

Cas almost jumped at Dean’s voice, but he relaxed when he saw who it was. “Hello, Dean.”

“What are you doing up?”

Cas looked down at the bump. “I am finding it increasingly difficult to sleep.”

“Why? Bad dreams?”

Cas was just about to say something when he was caught off by a grunt. His hand flew to the side of his bump and began to rub that area in small circles. It didn't seem to work because Cas winced again a moment later.

It didn't hit Dean immediately, but when he realised, he found his heart stuttering. “Cas, was that—”

The former angel nodded, his face pinched with a new kick. “The reason I struggle to sleep. The foetus tends to be productive at night.”

Before Dean had a chance to reply, Cas winced again. “And has a precise aim on my internal organs.”

“Really?” Dean smiled. “Dad used to tell me that I kept mom awake before I was even born. Kept saying he thought I would be a soccer player with how hard I was kicking her. Nearly drove mom insane.”

In the back of his mind Dean knew he should walk away. Cas was okay now, there was nothing to worry about, but he couldn't seem to make his feet move. He and Cas stood there in uncomfortable silence when he couldn't deny the urge to reach out and touch anymore. “Do you — do you mind if I…”

Cas cocked his head to the side. It was only when Dean pointed to the bump that he understood, and he gaped at Dean like a fool. “Oh, o-of course not.”

With a shaky hand Dean lifted his palm to Cas’ AC/DC shirt he borrowed from Dean when his other shirts became too small as the months progressed. The swell of Cas’ bump felt firm under his fingertips and he waited, waited for something to happen when he felt it. The baby kicked against his grasp, and Cas was right. This kid had some impressive strength in those little limbs.

“Whoa…” That was all Dean could say. His brain seemed to have short-circuited completely. What he was sure felt like a foot thumped against his hand again, and Dean couldn't help the smile that broke out across his face. “Looks like we’ve found our next soccer player.”

“But why must it play when I am meant to be sleeping?” Cas didn't sound too annoyed though. To Dean, he sounded… almost proud.

“Yeah, well… when it’s born it will give its new parents a run for their money.”

Just as quick as Cas was fine, his expression fell. “Oh. Um, yes. New parents.”

Dean didn't know what to think about Cas’ reaction when he pushed Dean’s hand away. “If you excuse me, I’m very tired. I would like to attempt some sleep if possible.”

What could Dean say to that? In the end he walked out of there. He forgot about his original trip to the kitchen and went straight back to bed, but sleep still evaded him. For some reason, seeing Cas had left him feeling uneasy about something. He could feel it in the pit of his gut and nagging at the back of his mind, but he just could not put his finger on it. Cas seemed fine. Healthy, putting on the right amount of weight that was recommended, the baby was moving, Cas could feel it, and there were no bleeds—

_Wait._

It finally dawned on Dean. Cas felt him moving.

That was the first time he had ever seen Cas actually touch the bump.

But what does that mean?

_That could mean anything. It was kicking him. He was probably trying to calm it down._

But… when Dean mentioned the new parents, Cas looked off. Like the idea… did it upset him?

Is Cas… having second thoughts?

But he hasn't said anything about it. If Cas was having doubts he would've something, right? Cas usually says when he does, but they haven't been talking at all. Maybe Sam? But if he did tell Sam, his little brother wouldn't be able to keep it to himself. Not about his niece or nephew. So what is Cas thinking?

The adoption was his idea, for crying out loud! He was the one who said he didn't feel anything, how much he hated it — why would he change his mind now?

Hold on, hold on — there is no confirmation that Cas has changed his mind. He hasn't said anything. Nothing has been said, so there might not be anything to worry about.

But then again, nothing has been said, so there is everything to worry about.

Whatever it was, Dean sure as hell did not like it.

And the next morning didn't do any good in calming his fears.

They were at breakfast. Dean had walked in on Sam already up with a cup of coffee and his laptop open in front of him. From the corner of his eyes he could see Cas wandering about, and usually Dean would be at the table and ready to eat, but there was something about this scene that told him not to join them. Not yet. Instead, he stood out of the way and watched their movements, studying them as they talked.

Cas had just joined Sam by the table with a full breakfast and ate away to his hearts content. He must have had some sleep after Dean left. He looked more rested than Dean does… hell, Dean looks like crap, but that’s not important right now. Dean was trying to listen in on them from where he was. He was able to get little snippets, and from the look of Cas’ body language, it was a conversation he would rather avoid.

“Look, Cas,” Sam sighed. “We’re getting close to your due day, and if you still want to give up your parental rights, we need to start making arrangements.”

Cas was in the middle of taking a bite out of a piece of toast and distracted himself from answering by chewing that up as slowly as he could. “Arrangements?”

“To give the baby up,” Sam clarified. “We have to get an agency involved, a social worker, someone who can take care of things and talk us through the process. I’ve got a few agencies website open now if you want to have a look.”

Cas froze at that. If Dean was sure, it almost looked like he dropped his toast at the implication of Sam’s words. “Now? We have to do this now?”

Sam didn't seem to notice Cas’ behaviour. He was too busy scrolling through his laptop. “We’ll know what to expect in the long run. If it helps, there are some that I think might be the best, I’ve got the numbers here if you want me to give them a call. There is one that I think might be the best for us—”

But the moment Sam went to reach for his cell phone on the table, he was caught by Cas’ hard grip around his wrist.

Sam stared up at Cas in shock at the sudden move, but not as much as Cas was. Neither of them made a move from their position, like they were frozen solid.

“Cas?” Sam began hesitantly. He looked like he had no idea how to approach this or how Cas would react.

But the former angel blinked back into reality, and let go of Sam’s wrist. Cas didn't look up at Sam’s questioning gaze and preoccupied himself by wiping down his shirt for crumbs that were not there. “I don’t wish to bother you, Sam. I will make the arrangements myself.”

But Sam was not convinced. “Cas, is everything alrigh—”

Sam didn't have a chance to finish that before Cas was grabbing his plate and scurrying off to his own room.

When he was gone, Sam didn't once try and pick up the phone again.

Dean had seen enough, though.

He had seen that look on Cas too many times over the years to know by heart what it meant. Doubt. There was doubt.

Doubt about what, Dean still wasn't sure. If Cas was feeling unsure about the adoption than there was no way he was telling anybody, but then what does that mean? Cas could still want to go through with it. Maybe he’s just going through a funny patch. Or he is seriously changing his mind about the whole thing — But what the hell does this mean?!

Dean doesn't know what the hell is going on, but he does not want to place his bets anywhere yet. He might be noticing this stuff, but that might not mean anything. But then again, what does he know?

Well, one thing: Something is different, and Dean wasn't sure if he liked it.

And two: he does not trust it. Not in the slightest.

 

* * *

 

The next few days, Dean didn't see much of Cas or Sam, but he knew that Cas had another hospital appointment arranged for a scan. Sam had been making a huge fuss about it. He kept saying that it was to check on the position of the placenta. If it still hadn't moved than it was to evaluate whether to book a c-section in preparation. Just as a precaution.

There was always a chance it would move, but it was getting more unlikely with every scan that went by.

Dean was eating his lunch when his phone buzzed in his pocket with his usual ringtone. He rummaged for it, not even bothering to check the ID on his screen before answering it.

“Hello?” Dean said with a full mouth.

“Mr. Winchester?”

Dean paused. He recognised the voice, but he couldn't place where he had heard it. “Who’s this?”

The voice merely sounded amused. “Oh, it’s Dr. Brag from the hospital. We met a few weeks back in the ER.”

 _Oh, yeah. The doctor with an attitude. How could he forget?_ “Oh, hi. Sorry about that. Is something up?”

“Oh, nothing’s wrong. Castiel came by for his appointment today and he left his coat behind. I tried calling him, but he doesn't seem to be answering. Pregnancy brain can do that to you. Man, the stories I have heard over the years.”

The doctor chuckled at that, but Dean frowned. He doesn't remember Sam ever mentioning this guy as being Cas’ doctor. He was certain he mentioned another name… he couldn't remember it right now, but it is definitely not him. “You’re not Cas’ OB/GYN.”

“Oh, I’m not. I just bumped into him, we talked a little. Nothing unusual. So… are you going to get his coat?”

He wasn't doing anything else with his day. “Uh, yeah, I’m on my way.”

That was odd. Dean didn't know what to think of that, but why the hell did Brag have his number? He doubted Sam or Cas had given it to him. He’ll have to ask them later.

Dean ended up driving over to the hospital as soon as he could, but why? It was to get the coat, but Dean couldn't understand why _he_ had to get it. Anyhow, Dean made it to the building, but the doc didn't exactly tell him where to go, so Dean ended up wandering the ER for ages. Some of the nurses looked at him warily. In the end, Dean went on his gut and roamed through the halls until he was able to find something.

He didn't know how the hell he ended up on this floor, but when Dean was about to make his way out, he stopped dead in the middle of the hallway. Some how, during his cruising, he had ended up here.

In front of the nursery. He was near the babies nursery.

They were all in a straight line, resting in their see-through cribs. Most of them were asleep, the boys and girls wrapped in their respected pink or blue blankets, and there was one baby wrapped in pink that had begun to cry. Dean couldn't hear anything past the glass window, but a nurse came in and picked her up. She swayed her back and forth in a rocking motion and rubbed her back in gentle pats in an attempt to calm down, and it seemed to be working. The baby didn't look so worked up anymore.

If only Dean could say the same.

He shouldn't be here. Heck, Dean doesn't even know how he got here, but he really needed to leave.

But he couldn’t.

It wasn’t for a sentimental, aren’t-babies-cute-I-want-to-pinch-their-cheeks kind of feeling. It was… it was because it hurt.

It really hurt.

He didn't even know why it affected him the way it did, but is this what he is going to expect? His baby — his and Cas’ baby — what would happen once its born? Once Cas had the c-section and everything was over, what would happen? Would Cas have a moment with it, would Cas want to? If he doesn’t, would the nurses just cart it away to the nursery with all the other babies, away from their parents and alone with a stranger?

Well, no… the other babies aren’t alone. They have a nurse, but they get to go back to their parents. There will be one baby left alone, waiting for a social worker to take it away and for parents to walk out of there like it never even happened.

For some reason, that made things much harder for Dean to reconcile.

“Cute, aren't they?”

Dean almost jumped at that voice. He wasn't even aware that Dr. Brag had joined him during his mini-breakdown, but Dean cleared his throat and tried to act as normal as he could. “If drool and dirty diapers are your thing, than yeah. They’re cute.”

“Yeah, well… they grow on you. When you spend most of your time with insolent, entitled drunkards, you start to appreciate the company of babies. At least they don’t spew insults at you when you try to hook them onto an IV drip. They just spew.”

Dean chuckled lightly. If only he could've seen Brag’s choice of colourful words in retaliation.

“But in a few more weeks you will be here again, and your own bundle of joy will be a person in the new world.”

Suddenly, Dean’s smile faded away and he shifted uncomfortably on his feet. “Yeah, a few weeks… Do you have kids, doc?”

Brag chuckled. “Noooo, no way. I might work with kids, but that is all I could put up with. Don’t bring your work home with you. I can only be my sweet self for only a few hours of the day.”

“Yeah,” Dean drifted off. “Look, I only came for the coat. I can’t stay too long.”

“No problem,” Brag said. Dean hadn't noticed but Brag was hanging the trench-coat off his arm. He passed it over to Dean, and he took it without question. “Give my regards to Castiel. I’m sure he’s busy with the adoption process.”

Wait, what? “How do you know that?”

Brag seemed confused by Dean’s outburst. “Um, he told me when he was admitted to the ER. You were there.”

Oh. _Oh, yeah._ “I’m sorry, it’s been a weird couple of days. My head is all over the place.”

“Maybe it’s sympathy pains. You feeling Cas’ pregnancy brain? There was one couple I treated where the husband was feeling every single one of his wife’s contractions. Hilarious! Let’s say he was very sympathetic to women’s struggles after that, especially since it was him who was crying out for an epidural.”

Dean couldn't help but smile at that mental image. “I don’t think I’m suffering from sympathy pregnancy brain.”

“No? Or maybe your head is all over the place from the lack of oxygen.”

Dean frowned. “Lack of oxygen?”

”Caused by how far you have it buried in the sand,” Brag sneered.

Suddenly, Brag’s kind and happy demeanour quickly shifted to a calculating and stern old man. He looked down at Dean, judging him carefully as his words finally sunk in. Dean paused at the words and eyed the doctor dangerously. “What did you say?”

“Castiel,” Brag mused aloud. “He seemed very conflicted when I saw him today, and when I tried to talk about his plans for the adoption, he clammed up like a stubborn oyster in a seafood restaurant. He didn't want to talk about it. Now, why is that?”

Dean was not liking the bitter glare he was getting from the doc, and his defences were instantly risen. “I don’t know. Maybe he doesn't like nosy doctors getting into his private business? ”

Brag put on a mock display of innocence. “How is it nosy if I’m asking a question that is important to his health?”

_You smarmy little—_

“Our decision about our child has nothing to do with you,” Dean hissed. He couldn't raise his voice in here. There were babies in the other room with only a thin layer of glass blocking out the outside world. Any louder and he would wake them up. It didn't stop the fury on his face and the deadly glare he gave the bastard. “It is our decision. It is what we want.”

But Brag did not quiver under Dean’s threats. In fact, he looked highly amused and smirked at the hunter. He replied calmly, looking straight into Dean’s eyes. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” Dean answered firmly.

“But are you sure that’s what Castiel wants?”

Dean paused. He hesitated, just for a moment and he swallowed the sudden lump in his throat. “Yeah. It is.”

“You sure about that?” Brag inquired.

How many times has this guy asked Dean that? Now he was really pissing him off. “It was his idea. I’m not forcing him to do anything.”

“Not intentionally, maybe, but it could be a factor in his decision.”

It was getting to the point where if Dean didn't leave right now he was going to punch this asshole in the face. His hands were shaking at the desire to do so. “Look, doc, I don’t have time to discuss this with you. Thanks for holding onto the coat for us. Have a nice day.”

Dean didn't wait for the doctor to reply before turning his back on him and began stalking down the hall. Cas’ coat was squished up in his fist. He may be creasing and wrinkling it up, but Dean didn't care. He just had to get out of there before he will give Brag a black eye he will be sporting for the next month.

But Brag wasn't done.

“It’s a boy.”

Dean stood stock still from where he stopped. He turned around slowly to the doctor. “Excuse me?”

“The baby. It’s a boy. Looks like the Winchester genes are strong with this one. There appears to be a lot of males in your family tree, I bet the poor girls were overwhelmed by the suffocating testosterone and self pity that went with the name.”

_Forget common-decency. This guy is dead._

“No,” Dean was full of indignation. He was ready for a fight, and he was past the point of caring if it was in a maternity ward. “How dare you? You had no right to tell me that. We did not want to know!”

“Really?” Brag stated in mock surprise.

“Yes,” Dean growled.

“Because if he both didn't want to know, than why did Castiel ask me to tell him the sex of the baby? Because he didn't care?”

_What? Cas knows?_

_Cas had… asked?_

Dean wished he would've been surprised by that, but he wasn’t. But he was angry. Oh, hell, he was angry. “You need to stay out of our business!”

“I can’t. I’m the doctor. I am the business.”

 _Huh?_ “What the hell?”

Brag huffed. “Okay, since you seem to be struggling to comprehend this, I’ll put this into small words.”

“Watch it, buddy—” Dean warned.

Now it was Brag’s turn to get angry. “No, you listen to me, young man. I’ve been around for a very long time. I’ve had many patients over the years, and you tend to gain a sixth sense with these things.”

“What ‘things’, doc?” Dean spat.

“Castiel seems like a wonderful young man, but I can see he is very troubled by something, and it all seems to be coming from you. I’ve got experience with absent fathers, and let me tell you — it does a number on their kids. And if Cas really didn't want this baby, fine! I wouldn’t push. I never do, but I know there is uncertainty in his eyes, and I know you can sense it too.”

Dean couldn't answer that. He wouldn't know what to say if he could.

“But hey!” Brag lifted his hands in surrender. “I might be wrong. And if I’m not, and Castiel does keep the baby, I’m going to offer you some friendly advice, and I suggest you take it very carefully, Mr. Winchester. A baby is a big obligation. You can’t half-ass it. If you’re still unsure, you better find an answer soon. So here is where my advice comes in; Either suck it up, accept your responsibilities… or get out.”

Dean wasn't sure he heard that correctly. “What?”

Brag didn't falter. “If you are not going to stick around, get the hell out of their lives and never come back. Castiel and that baby will be better off no matter what you choose, but not if you’re still unsure.”

Dean stared at the doctor in disbelief, and Brag sighed. Instantly, his demeanour seemed to change and he was looking at Dean with something close to pity and sympathy. Dean didn't know which was worse.

“I’m not doing this to be cruel, son. I’m doing this for the best interests of my patient. I heal what is wrong with them, and you seem to be what is wrong with Castiel. I made an oath. I’m sure you have reasons, but you need to figure out what you want, and if you don’t want this…” Brag turned his direction to the sleeping babies behind the glass. “You might as well mae the right decision. ’Cause if you’re just gonna stay on the side lines for when you do figure it out… you might as well just walk away.”

There was nothing else said after that.

Brag didn't wait for Dean to answer him. He strutted down the hallway with his coat flying by his sides.

Dean just stood there like a fool, watching him leave.

By the time the doctor disappeared from his sight, Dean stood stupefied in the middle of the hallway until the cry of a newly awoken infant startled him out of his head.

The next thing he knew Dean was rushing through the crowds and staff that were blocking his way. He didn't look back when they complained or when they shouted at him. Dean just kept on running until he was outside, and in his car, and _away from it all._

The next thing he knew Dean was driving his way back to the Bunker at full speed, probably adding more traffic violations on his record in the process. He didn't care. Brag’s words were still ringing in his head on repeat, like a song he hated but couldn't turn off. They were echoing constantly, and it was driving Dean crazy.

Crazy because maybe, just maybe… Brag had a point.

Of course he did. Dean would be lying if he said otherwise, because he is on the fence. What has he been doing, letting Cas take up the weight? And after all these months, all the things he has seen recently and everything… how cold he deny that this was affecting Cas more than he was willing to see?

And if Cas was changing his mind? What would that mean?

_Either suck it up, accept your responsibilities… or get out._

What would it mean?

And when Dean found himself dreading the answer, he knew what to do.

He couldn’t keep doing this anymore.

He can’t.

Dean went straight for Sam’s laptop. He had left laying around in the library and opened it up, bypassing Sam’s password requirement and went straight for the bookmark section, and like he said, there was a long list of agencies that had caught his brother’s attention. Dean had to admit that Sam did his homework. They all looked pretty good, but Dean didn't spend too much time on them. The longer it took, the more the doubt will settle.

In the end, he picked one at random and dialled their number.

 

* * *

 

It was later that evening that Dean decided to talk to Cas. If his usual cravings were still prevalent, he would be in the kitchen right now for his usual sweet run. The morning sickness had passed but the cravings lived on. And when Dean got into the kitchen, he was right.

Cas was raiding the cupboards for the confectionery they had stashed. He was standing on his toes just to reach the top shelf (Sam is ridiculously tall so its great for him when he can reach stuff, but not for everyone else). When he grabbed the stash, he rummaged through the bag until he found what he wanted, which happened to be a candy bar.

Dean watched him for a moment, just admiring the care free energy around him that he so rarely see’s anymore. Cas had always been a stick up the ass angel, but some of that tension dissipated over time when Cas became a human. Dean was able to let him enjoy the simple pleasures of being human — food, relaxing, even watching the bee’s gave Cas some satisfaction. And even watching Cas munch away on a candy bar brought on the same reaction.

God, Dean missed that. He wanted to enjoy it for as long as he could.

But it had to end. It always did. “Cas?”

Dean hated the fact that Cas’ care free attitude vanished the moment he heard his voice and turned to look at him. His candy bar was left forgotten in his hand, and he stared back at the hunter. “Dean? I did not know you were here.”

Dean shifted uncomfortably on his feet. “Yeah, I was… thinking. Look, Cas, I need to talk to you.”

That piqued Cas' interest. The fact they they were going to talk was enough to let him put the bag away to give Dean his full attention. “You do?”

“It’s about time we did, um… I don’t know how to say this, but I know I haven’t been the friend that you needed.”

“That’s not true,” Cas shook his head.

“Yes, it is,” Dean couldn't have Cas standing up for him. Even after everything that has happened, he still wants to stand up for him. “Things have been weird between us, and if I can I want to make them right again.”

Cas nodded, looking relieved. “I want that too.”

“Good,” Dean said quietly. “That’s good, and I want to be more involved with this now. I want to help you out with everything, I don’t want you to do this alone anymore, so I called an adoption agency.”

Immediately, the hope that lit up in Cas’ eyes disappeared faster than he had ever seen it before. “What?”

Dean could see that Cas was becoming distressed, but he had to get this done. He had to. “I was able to get an appointment booked for us for tomorrow morning. Nine a.m sharp with a social worker. I thought maybe it would be appropriate if we do this together.”

Cas was stuttering like a fool, but he didn't know what to say. “But—but I said I would arrange everything.”

“I know, but we can’t keep putting this on hold. It will be easier on all of us if we just do this now.”

“I—I don’t understand how that would be easier for anyone,” Cas raised his shaky voice, almost to the point of shouting.

“It just is, Cas,” Dean was getting short himself, so he took a deep breath to compose himself. “The lady was very nice, her name is Berta. She’s going to talk us through everything, and we need to fill in some forms.”

Cas’ breathing had become rapid. He could only look at Dean wearily. “Do I have to?”

Dean frowned. “Have to what?”

“Have to attend?”

“It’s kinda compulsory,” Dean slowed down his voice as if he was talking to a small child. “She wants to start with initial checks and ask us if there are any preferences for families we would like.”

Now Cas looked panicked. “Preferences? They want preferences? Why?”  
  
“I don’t know, Cas! That’s what the meeting is for! They’ll explain everything to us. Just be ready for tomorrow morning.”

“But, I—”

Cas didn't try to say anything. He bit his bottom lip to hold back whatever was on the tip of his tongue, and for some reason that made Dean furious. Cas wanted to say something and he just wouldn't be honest. Dean has had enough with the ambiguity. He wants the truth.

“Unless you have something to tell me. Anything at all. Just spit it out.”

But Cas was strangely silent. He kept his gaze down and away from Dean, but the hunter could tell his eyes were blinking rapidly as if to fight back the sting behind them. Dean had no idea how to react to that. Even behind all the fury he was feeling, the sight of Cas so emotional thawed through him. He wasn't expecting Cas to respond like this, and now that he has, it left Dean adrift.

Suddenly, the Bunker door rung open and heavy footfalls echoed through the place. Soon, Sam was in the kitchen with them with two full shopping bags in his hands. “Hey, guys. I just got back from the farmer’s market. If you could help me out with these that would be great.”

Sam proceeded to unload the bags on the table and take out each item. Dean and Cas just froze where they stood, but even Sam wasn't blind to the tension in the room. He slowed down in his unpacking, sensing it. He glanced up at Dean and then to Cas, drawing up who knows what from the feeling he got in front of them. “Is everything okay?”

“We’re fine, Sam,” Dean snapped.

Sam didn't buy that. Not from Dean. He looked over at the former angel and saw more than Dean was willing to acknowledge. “Cas, are you okay?”

Cas tried to hide from Sam’s studious gaze, but it was pointless. He didn't know how to hide his emotions very well. “Um, yes, Sam.”

Sam looked back at Dean, but when he only received a blank expression, he had reached the end of his tether. “What the hell is going on?”

“Sam, stay out of this,” Dean warned.

“No way. I want to know what is happening here,” Sam growled.

“I’m not getting into this,” Dean objected. “Cas, I will see you tomorrow.”

Dean turned his back on Sam and Cas and headed straight for the door, but he was suddenly pulled back with a heavy grip on his shoulder. “No! Dean, don’t you dare walk out that door! Don’t you dare!”

It was Sam. He pushed him to the corner of the room, his back colliding with the hard wall that forced his breath out of his chest. He blinked a few times and Dean was able focus his eyes on the large shape of his brother standing over him. And he was pissed. “Months. For months I have been watching you guys dance around this, trying to pretend this isn't happening, but I can’t take this anymore. You can try to pretend that this is not happening, Dean, but man the fuck up! I won’t take it anymore. You need to talk about this. You both need to talk about this.”

When Sam was met with silence from Cas and an indignant scowl from his brother, he heaved out the largest sigh ever. He looked back at Dean with nothing, but disappointment. “You know — Fine!”

Before Dean could comprehend what was happening, Sam rushed straight out of the room and closed the door, the handle liking loudly that only meant one thing. The lock.

That got Dean up on his feet. He grabbed at the handle, tried to jimmy it but it was useless. They were locked in.

Dean began pounding on the door. “Sam, open this door right now!”

Sam’s voice was muffled from behind the door, but enough so that he could be heard. “No, Dean. I am not opening this door until you and Cas finally talk and make sense of this mess.”

“What are we, kids? You can’t keep us in here!”

“I can until you fucking talk!”

Dean punched the door one more time before turning his gaze over to Cas. The former angel was now sitting by the table. He didn't even try to hide the tears rom his eyes anymore. They were bright red and one of them was rolling down his cheek. “You want us to talk? Fine! We’ll talk.”

Dean pushed himself away from the door and grabbed a free chair. He plonked himself on it, in front of Cas and glared at him. “Talk away. Tell me what the hell is going on with you. Tell me how you feel, Cas. Tell me anything, Cas. Tell me!”

Cas jumped at Dean’s sternness. “Dean—”

Dean could see he was about to object, but Dean was not going to let that go. “No… no more. I have had it to here with this shit. I am done with it. If there is something you want to tell me, that would be great.”

“What do you want me to say?” Cas replied weakly.

Dean was this close to losing his temper for good and doing something he would most likely regret, but he knew this was his golden chance. No more secrets, no more lies, no more of whatever they have been doing these last few months— just the truth. And he wanted that more than anything.

“Are you going to give this baby up?”

Cas wiped the tear from his cheek. “I said I would.”

“But do you want to? Be honest, Cas. Do you want to give this baby up?”

There was only silence when Dean waited for Cas to answer, but that silence told him everything he needed to know. Cas dropped his gaze down to his hands on his lap as a fresh tear ran down his face again. He bit the inside of his cheek, closing his eyes that forced the stream of tears to flow, and then he looked up at Dean… he shook his head.

Dean could only stare at him for a long time. Cas didn't seem brave enough to try. So they waited.

Eventually, Dean got up from his chair and turned his back on Cas. He could feel the former angel’s eyes heavy on his back, and watching him carefully.

Suddenly, Dean kicked the wall. He ignored the throb in his toes where brick and flesh had made collided, but he didn't care. He just didn't give a flying fuck right now. “What the hell, Cas? What the hell is happening with you?

“I’m sorry,” Cas whispered.

Dean groaned at the pain in his foot. “I heard you, Cas. I heard you tell Sam that you did not care for this kid.”

Cas looked up at him in surprise. “How did you—”

“I overheard you, okay? I overheard you, I heard everything you said, and you said you did not care or want this baby. What changed?”

“I don’t know,” Cas muttered.

“Bullshit!” Dean spat.

“I don’t know!” Cas protested.

“You better find out! You can not change your mind like this!”

“Yes, I can. I haven’t made any arrangements,” Cas argued.

“And tomorrow?” Dean asked.

“Cancel it.”

Dean shrugged. “What’s the point? You might change your mind again in the mean time.”

The moment Dean said, that Cas gave him a venomous look. He grabbed the nearest thing in his possession, which was a napkin dispenser, and threw it at Dean. It landed on his chest — it didn't cause much damage but the intention was there. It had Dean stare at Cas wide eyed and stunned..

“You think this is a decision I made lightly? It has caused me nothing but agony! All these months of you and Sam talking about adoption and giving him up, new families and my plans after he is gone. Do you know what I have been thinking? Do you know how the thought of letting him go makes me sick? No, you wouldn’t! You have no idea what I am thinking! ”

It was strange. The moment Cas finally opened up, it was like a dam. The minute he started to talk, he could no longer hold back and his feelings were like a flood that drowned them both. Dean was silent when Cas talked, and every minute was like he was confessing to the worst sins possible, but the relief of finally talking about them was freeing to his soul.

“I never understood the bond between a parent and their child,” Cas continued. “It was something I never could comprehend when I had my grace. Even when I took Jimmy as a vessel, I had a glimpse of his love for Claire, how he would do anything for her, even sacrifice his own life just to save her… but I only saw it as primal, instinctual and overbearing. Everything that an angel should never feel. But now I am… it scares me, Dean. At the hospital, when I thought… I was terrified.”

“Because of what was happening,” Dean offered.

“Because I feared I lost him,” Cas admitted, his face twisting up with fresh agony at a new memory. “And it would’ve been my fault. I blamed him for everything that had happened between us. When I first discovered I was pregnant, and how you distanced yourself from me, I blamed it on him. That night I came to you, I only did that because that was the first time I had ever felt him kick and it disgusted me, so I went to you. You always made sex seem like a great mode of distraction, and I was desperate. I had been entertaining the idea of wishing he had never existed… I didn’t think it would really happen.”

Cas took a shuddering breath at the memory of that night. It was still fresh in Dean’s mind, the horror of it all, what would’ve happened to Cas if he had suffered a stillbirth… but he never considered that Cas was feeling that night this deeply.

“I thought I killed him,” Cas confessed. “I thought I killed him just by wishing. I know it is not possible, but I felt responsible. Even when the doctor told me he was okay, I still didn't fully believe him. Until I felt him kick again, and I was so relieved, and the guilt I felt… Sam was right. It does take time for a bond to form, and now that I have it… whenever you, or Sam, or the doctors mention adoption, I am filled with so much fear, it paralyses me and… and now he is just an idea. If I feel this way now, how will I feel once he is born? How can I hand him to someone else, and never know where or who he is?”

Cas looked Dean dead in the eyes and stood firm. “I can’t do it, Dean. I can’t let him go. I won’t let him go, and there is nothing that will change my mind.”

Dean could only nod at Cas’ confession because he didn't think he could say anything past the lump in his throat. He blinked back the stinging sensation in his eyes and slowly nodded. “Well, you seemed to have made that decision without me. I guess my opinion on the matter is pointless.”

Cas’ shoulder’s slumped. “That’s not fair.”

“This whole thing is not fucking fair!” Dean hissed.

That made Cas’ eyes go dark. “You want to talk about fair? You have no right to say that to me.”

“And why not?” Dean challenged.

“Because you still don’t get it. You and Sam, and I always thought I could count on you to be my friend like I have been to you. But these last few months, with the pregnancy, it has made me open my eyes to the true friends that I have.”

“What are you saying, Cas?”

“I gave up everything for you,” Cas said hoarsely. “I have lost _everything._ My home, my family, my grace and everything that I have believed in. I did it because I thought you were worth it all. But what have you done for me, Dean? What have I gained?”

When Dean wouldn’t answer him, Cas didn't look surprised. He watched Dean with the same energy he would with the prayers he would send to his father; not expecting to be answered. In the end, he gave up and moved on.

“You said you overheard me,” Cas said, taking a seat back in the chair, his hand holding the bump as he did so. “I understand you know why I decided to have this child.”

Again, Dean didn't answer, but Cas wasn’t finished.

“I assumed you had wanted children. I kept this child because I wanted to give you the one thing I thought you had wanted. But it appears this baby is another thing on the long list of things I would do for you to make you happy. I thought giving you your first child would make you happy, but it only made you seem more disgusted with me than you were bef—”

“Cas, this isn't my first kid,” Dean admitted quickly.

Cas looked up at the hunter in shock. “What?”

Dean sighed, suddenly feeling completely exhausted. “We had a case in Seattle. I got careless one night and met a woman. We went to her place and I spent the night. That was a mistake. It turned out she was an Amazon. She got pregnant and had my kid in a span of a few days. But there was a ritual where she had to kill the father, and she had to kill me. Her name was Emma. Sam had to kill her when I couldn't do it.”

Cas stared at Dean dumbfounded, but the anger and the hostility from earlier seemed to wash away and all Dean could see was the crushing sorrow he felt for him. “I didn’t know this.”

“It’s not something I like to publicise,” Dean shrugged.

“I’m sorry, Dean. I truly am, but shouldn’t this be another chance for you? Didn’t you want children?”

Dean let out a strained chuckle, but there was absolutely no humour in it. “Now, you don’t get it, Cas. I had a kid for a few days. Emma died because I happened to be her father. Look what happened to Ben, and we’re not even related. Not even the kids, but my mom, dad, Ellen, Jo, Bobby, Charlie — shall I go on? They are all dead because of me.”

“That’s not true,” Cas argued.

“Don’t lie to me!” Dean objected, but there wasn't any fight in it. Not when he was so tired. “How else would you explain it? I have lost so much, more than one person can handle, but Cas… what kind of future does this kid have? His dad is a hunter, his… you are a former angel. How is that normal? He will never be safe, and it will make every monster in the world try and use him against us, or worse. You are being selfish in wanting to keep him in this life. That is on your head, Cas. Not mine.”

Cas was staring at Dean curiously. He didn't seem angry at Dean’s words, but there was something else that grabbed his attention. “I’m a what, Dean?”

Dean frowned. “Huh?”

“You said you are his father, but you wouldn't give me a status. Why?”

Dean waved it off. “It doesn't matter.”

“It matters to me. You don’t know what to call me, do you?”

“Cas, why does this matter?” Dean asked,

Cas swallowed. “Am I not human in your eyes?”

Dean turned to Cas and stared at him firmly. “Cas, you are.”

“What am I to you, Dean? What do you see from me?”

Dean didn't want to talk about this. He turned his back on Cas and moved away. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“Yes, you do,” Cas said desperately. “You know exactly what I am talking about, and I hate the fact you keep avoiding it every time I bring it up. I have had enough. I was honest, now it is your turn; what have I done, Dean? What has changed?”

“Nothing has changed,” Dean lied.

“Yes, it has. Was it… was it what Metatron did?”

Dean couldn't answer that. He did need to. Cas got his answer from the silence, instead.

“That’s the issue? That’s what this is about?”

Cas sounded so heartbroken over that.

“It’s just a body, Dean. Why does my vessel change things?”

“You don’t get it. Human’s aren't angels. We are stuck in these bodies, and everyone cares about what their body is like. You might not care, but everyone else does. If we dated, people would assume we were gay. I’m not gay. I’m not attracted to men. I only like women, I only like women who look like women. And that is how people see the world.”

“Including you?” Cas asked.

Reluctantly, Dean nodded.

“So if I looked female, this wouldn't be an issue.”

Dean couldn't answer that. He didn't have to.

“So why did you initiate our first sexual encounter?”

Dean ran a hand over his face and admitted. “Because I wanted you.”

“But not if I was a man?”

Cas was used to Dean’s silences now. They said more than Dean could ever say with his own words.

The former angel wiped his cheeks again from the fresh tears. “I thought you were a better man than that, Dean.”

_I wish I was, Cas._

The former angel took a big breath and exhaled. He nodded to himself, as if accepting the situation with all the facts on the table. A decision he has made peace with. “It doesn't matter anymore. Not now.”

Dean turned to look at Cas with a strange expression. Cas had gotten up from the chair and made his way over to Dean with determination in his eyes.

“Dean, every thing that has happened, we can put that behind us. Whatever feelings you have about me, or about anything else, I won’t hold them against you. We can move on from this. We can go back to being friends, when things were simple, but we are going to have a child together. I’m not going to deny you anything, Dean. We made this, and I want you to be part of his life. I am still your friend and I’m giving you a chance. Will you please take it?”

In all the months that his relationship with Cas has been like, Dean has never once been forced to give an answer like this. For months, it has been hiding from the truth he couldn't understand or didn't want to acknowledge, but now it has finally come to a head. All the cards were on the table. What could he do

Cas is willing to forgive, was giving him a chance. Maybe even a chance at redemption, but could it work? He’s not sure, but does he want Cas back? Of course.

Does he want a child?

While every cell in his body is scream ing the answer to him, Dean knows that this little talk has not been able to change the truth. A child of a Winchester. Cursed before he can draw his first breath. Destined for a plan that he has no choice but to follow. If not, that doesn't mean he was safe. Dean would be raising him as a hunter. No matter how badly he tried to get off that path, the road will always end up taking him the same route.

A long time ago, Dean would've said yes. He would’ve said yes, but not anymore.

How can be condemn a child like that? So, in his messed up mind, this is the right thing to do.

“No. I’m sorry, Cas. But I can’t do it.”

The look Cas gave Dean was beyond what Dean was capable of describing. All he could say was that a fresh bought of tears came to light and it took all of Cas’ will power to stay together. “Okay,” he whispered barely audible. He cleared his throat and some again. “Okay. Well, thank you for finally being honest with me.”

In one last act of composure, Cas brushed off the tears from his cheek and went for the kitchen door. He knocked on it gently, and called out to the other Winchester. “Sam, you can open the door now.”

Without another word, the lock clicked loudly and the door opened. Sam was standing on the other side, his face and eyes harrowed and ragged. With a sense of dismay, Dean realised that Sam must have been listening to the whole thing, but right now he couldn't care. It had been too long a day to care.

Cas stepped out of there as fast as he could. Dean followed him for a moment until they were in the library. “Cas—”

“No,” Cas interrupted. He refused to turn around and look at the hunter, opting to keep his back to him. “Go away. I don’t want to talk to you. I have to get ready for the birth of my son.”

Without another word, Cas walked away, probably to his room to rest. He must be as exhausted as Dean is feeling now, but he does not want the self pity. He doesn't deserve it. In the end, he dragged himself to his bedroom, doing his best to ignore his little brothers stares goring into his back.

 

* * *

 

_So here is where my advice comes in;_

Dean had his bag packed in less than thirty minutes. He only needed the bare essentials and there was still some gear left in his car. It will have to do for now. He could get some more on the rest of the way.

_Either suck it up..._

Dean raced out of his room and grabbed some stuff from the kitchen that will last him a few days until he gets settled.

Once he was ready and packed, Dean went straight for the Bunker door. What he wasn't anticipating was for Sam to still be hanging around.

_Accept your responsibilities…_

“Look, Dean I don’t —“ Whatever Sam was about to say was gone the moment he clocked the bag and Dean’s heavy gaze. “Dean? Where are you going?”

_Or get out..._

Dean didn't even stop to answer him. He was halfway up the stairs when he finally explained. “I’m getting the hell out.”

“What? Dean? Dean!”

Dean didn't listen to Sam when he called out to him, or when he tried to follow him when Dean got into the Impala and began to drive like a maniac just to get out of there as fast as he could. He didn't look back when he saw his little brother’s disappearing figure in his rear-view mirror. He didn’t look back.

Brag’s words have been circling fresh in his mind again, going on loop since that talk with Castiel, and he knew what he had to do.

_’Cause if you’re just gonna stay on the side lines…_

_You might as well just walk away._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... what do you think?
> 
> Please rate and review. Xx


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I found this chapter difficult to write, and I'm not a big fan, but it's done.
> 
> Spelling, grammar, all mistakes my own - you get it by now.

Life on the road has not been something Dean has missed, but it’s a world he knows how to live.

After living in the Bunker for so long, Dean had gotten used to the idea of having a place to call his home. And it was. It was his home. He and Sam had lived there for so long now that it was impossible not to think of it as their home. They felt safe there, they had put their stamp on it, and when Cas moved in they lived together without fear of losing it. That felt like such a long time ago now.

Dean had been on the road for almost two months now. Eight weeks. Eight weeks since he has been away.

Ever since he drove away, his brothers face fading away in the rear-view mirror, Dean made a point of not looking back.

Even though Dean and his brother never went on the road that much for their hunts anymore, Dean still had a map in his glove compartment for when they did travel for a job. You would think after being brought up in the Impala and on the highway that Dean would have memorised the roads to anywhere right now. He had, mostly, but there are some lanes of asphalt Dean has never been on before.

He followed the map in a straight line for any jobs that were going his way. There were Vampires in Oklahoma, the Wendigo’s in Arkansas, Demons in Texas, a coven in Louisiana, and a ghost in Mississippi — anywhere the job told him to go. It kept him busy. It gave him a distraction. He needed the distraction.

If Dean didn’t, he would be noting all the weeks that had passed by, all of them leading up to one thing.

Cas would be thirty-six weeks pregnant. Nine months.

The baby is almost ready to be born.

His son.

He couldn't believe it was getting so close to the due date. In another four weeks Dean will have a son — No.

No, he won’t.

Dean won’t be part of his life. No. The baby will have Cas, an amazing mom (or dad. Whatever Cas wants to be called.) and his Uncle Sammy, who Dean has no doubt will spoil him rotten. All that little boy could ever want, all he had to do was go to his Uncle Sam.

That made Dean smile. Sam was always a sap about things like that.

Now that it was getting so close to the due date, Dean couldn't stop himself from entertaining the idea of what the baby would look like once he was born. For some reason, he couldn't really get much of a picture in his head. When he tried to mix his and Cas’ features together to create a face, it would always resemble something from a morph image. It was always weird and it never looked right, and it never seemed to work on a baby. Didn't all babies look the same, anyway?

Dean doesn't know, but every time his thoughts drifted down that path, it only made Dean’s chest hurt, so he tried to never think about it. He couldn't afford to think about it. That’s why he is so busy. Why do you think he takes all those jobs?

How could he think when he had work to do?

So Dean would always make sure he was neck deep in monsters and hunting jobs. They were a good enough motivator, especially when the coven in Louisiana tried to cut off certain parts of his anatomy for a certain ritual. It was a close call, but he ganked those bitches like the scum they were. They were dirty scum. He had a cold shower afterwards. They were a very gross coven.

And for awhile it worked. Dean didn't think about it. Until he bumped into a mother holding her newborn baby, or a bunch of kids playing in the park, but Dean always found something else to distract himself with. Until the cycle happened all over again. And again, and again… and again.

But there was one incident that hit him more than he was prepared for. Dean was in a store in Dallas, investigating a possible case of demon attacks, talking to the manager about one of his employee’s, worked there fifteen years, never called in sick, one of his best workers until he went crazy during a shift and started to fight all the customers who came his way. Somehow, this guy had managed to injure three people and killing one by, um… ripping her jugular vein out with his teeth. The poor woman bled out instantly.

It was when Dean was interviewing the manager that he saw it. There was a stack of baby onesies on display in the store. For boys, and girls, or neutral, but there was one on hanging there that really caught his attention.

A black and yellow bumble bee onesie with a little hat to go with it. It was probably one of the cheesiest things Dean had ever seen, but there was something about it that made him think of Cas for some reason. Then he remembered Cas’ fascination with bees when he went loco for a while, and then there was that incident when he showed up… covered in bees. Yeah… that’s a memory he won’t be forgetting anytime soon.

By the time he was done with the manager, Dean had swiped the onesie from the rack and was able to sneak it out of the store unnoticed. He doesn't know why he did that, but the onesie seemed so perfect he couldn't ignore it. He has it hidden in the back of the car, and when Dean would be grabbing his guns from the trunk, he would get a quick glance at the outfit, and it would never fail to put a smile on his face. He wouldn't be surprised if Cas had something similar in his growing collection of baby clothes.

Suddenly, Dean could hear his ringtone from somewhere in the car. He searched for it until he found that it was still in his pocket. Dean rolled his eyes to himself and checked the caller ID before he answered it, and it was a good thing he did, too.

Sam was calling him again.

His little brothers calls seemed to follow a pattern of once every week or so, and every time Dean would let it go to voicemail. Not always. Sometimes Dean was too wrapped up in a case to notice his phone was ringing and he would check his phone to find a missed call from Sam, but when he is there, Dean took the cowardly approach.

It’s not like he didn't want to talk to Sam. He does, he misses him so much… it’s just that they haven't spoken since the night he left and he doesn't know what to say. What’s the protocol for conversations like this?

_Hi, how are you? Things are good except for the fact that I miss you and Cas and I want to come home so badly but I’ve fucked everything up too bad for things to be fixed and I stole a little onesie that made me think of Cas and I’m counting down the day the baby’s born and I am miserable without you guys._

It would be a bit heavy going to open up with that.

But Dean could never bring himself to answer the phone. No matter how much he wanted to, the overwhelming shame that encompassed him with the thought of his family away always made him ignore it.

His ringtone finally ended after a minute. Dean couldn't think of anything else to do besides stare at his brothers name on the screen and wait for that sinking feeling in his stomach to go away.

Enough of this. He didn't have time to feel sorry for himself. He has to get to Missouri.

Dean put his phone away and revved up the engine.

He had a job to do.

 

* * *

 

Today was his day off. The first one in a long time. Reluctantly. Dean noticed a possible lead in Iowa — two teenagers disappeared after going into a supposedly haunted house on a dare and have not been seen since. It sounded like his deal, but Dean was getting low on funds, so he had no choice but to stay in Jefferson City for awhile. It wasn't too bad, though. It was a nice city and it gave him a chance to occupy himself with another one of his pass time.

He was at a bar in the middle of town and it was crawling with midday alcoholics and layabouts. The perfect people to try and hustle pool with. It was getting more busy by the minute, so Dean had a steady stream coming in on the idiots who thought they could do better than him. With a smug grin, Dean was able to show every single one of them who was boss, and even made two hundred dollars out of it. So far, it’s shaping up to be a good day.

He had just beaten a guy out of another fifty bucks when he had decided to give up and walk out of the room like the sorry punk-ass he was. Honestly, it was one of the easiest rounds Dean had ever played, he couldn't believe that guy thought he would win. Ha, ha, Dean couldn't help but feel superior.

The next guy Dean played against didn't bet as much, and it was playing out to be a more relaxed game then his other competitors. Not that Dean was complaining. This guy — Stu — seemed like a cool guy. They talked a little bit as they played and he even bought him his second beer. Form the stores he was telling Dean, he was a cool guy. He just wished he didn't ask so many questions about _him…_

They were in the middle of a game. It was pretty even, so far. Stu was actually pretty good, Dean didn't even think he would mind if he lost to him. They were only paying for twenty bucks, so it wouldn't burn a huge hole in his pocket. Stu was polishing the end of his cue before he took his turn.

“How about it, Stu?” Dean asked. “This is your last chance to make things more interesting and raise the stakes?”

Stu didn't even raise an eyebrow, speaking in a thick Southern accent. “Anybody ever tell ya that gambling is a serious problem to have?”

“Well, considering my fondness for beer and frisky women, I think that is the lesser of my evils.”

Stu blew the remaining chalk of his cue and grumbled. “If ya think frisky women are the worst of your evils, than you are meeting the wrong kinda women.”

Dean laughed. “Something tells me you are a ladies man. Got anymore stories for me?”

Stu was about to take his position at the table, but he paused at Dean’s question. “Uh, I’m afraid it was the sixties, son. I don’t remember much, besides the drunken nights and the drugs I took. If I happened to get lucky in the process, I don’t recall.”

Just as Stu was about to aim and take his shot, an odd look crossed his face and he straightened up. “Although, there was this one time. Me and my buddies went to some sorta concert in sixty-nine, my friend Al was able to get a stash of the good stuff — LSD — boy, did we have a weird trip. I don’t remember half of it, but I found myself in bed with the lead singer of the band we wentta see. I think she was married to the funny looking hippy she kept singing with. Man, she was a beaut! Long black hair, large doe eyes… what was her name? Cheryl? Cherie?”

_Cher?_

_Did this guy —_

Stu waved it off. “Anyhow, I got hell outta there before she woke up. Last time I heard, she split from her hippy boy and decided to go solo. I wonder if she ever made it big?”

Dean was probably staring at Stu like some wide eyed shmuck, but when Stu looked back at him with a a growing grin on his face, Dean realised what was going on. “You made that up, didn’t you?”

“Of course, I did,” Stu chuckled with a throaty laugh. He leaned in for his turn on the board and finally took his shot. The balls clicked together, with one of them falling into the hole. Lucky move. “You can see my ugly mug, right?”

“I’ve seen uglier,” Dean quipped.

“I bet a boy like you doesn't have any trouble with the ladies, especially with your love for frisky women.”

Dean shrugged. “I get by.”

Stu mumbled to himself. “Ain’t it nice for the pretty boys.”

“Hey, says the guy who has a ring on his finger,” Dean complained.

“That was from sheer luck and persistence. I’m sure she hates me now.”

From the way Stu smiled at the mention of his wife, Dean knew that wasn't true. It was his turn on the game now, so Dean watched the board for a moment to strategise. “How long have you been married?”

“Almost fifty years. Coincidently, we met at that concert I was telling ya about. ”

Dean had to admit it; his interest was piqued. “Seriously? Was it love at first sight?”

“Nah, more like I saw her across the room, thinking she was a mighty fine woman, and she was there on another date who was handsome and drove a car.”

Dean laughed. “Oh, man, how could you ever compete?”

Stu smirked. “It was a good thing he was an absolute moron.”

“And it was the start of a beautiful relationship with flowers and chocolate and all that Mills and Boons crap?”

“If Mills and Boons include fights, three kids and her strange addiction to nutmeg and the TLC channel, then yeah, it’s flowers and chocolates. Damn, that woman drives me crazy.”

Dean was about to take his turn again. He had the perfect opportunity to get a great shot and beat Stu’s ass, but he was caught off by the affection and undeniable love in his voice when he spoke about his wife, and it made his chest ache for something very far away from him. “I wish my life was like that.”

Stu laughed, his eyes crinkling up in the process. “Nah, boy like you? I’m sure you’re doin’ mighty fine.”

Dean finally took his shot, but his original aim went out the window. He was too busy trying to hide the look of sadness from crossing his face. “I wish that was true, Stewie.”

“First of all, my name ain’t Stewie,” Stu gave Dean a bitch face that was very impressive for an old man. It could even rivals Sam’s. “And second, I’m sure it ain’t as bad as you’re makin’ it outta be.”

Dean shook his head. “Oh, it is. It really is.”

“You wanna talk about it?”

Dean shrugged. “I don’t want to bore you with my problems.”

“The world is full of problems, boy. With the world falling apart from corrupt politicians and the worst crimes against humanity, I’m sure yours ain’t too bad.”

Wow, Dean had to give this guy points for tenacity.

“Okay, since you keep asking,” Dean said. Stu didn't seem to be trying to go for his next shot, so the game looked like it was on hold. “A while ago, I made a choice, and I hurt somebody very important to me. I got away just to make things easier.”

“What happened?” Stu asked with interest.

“That’s private, Stewie.”

Stu looked like he was just about to have a go at him for calling him ‘Stewie’ again, but he waves it off and moves onto his point. “Sure thing, son, but how do ya know it will make things easier? You ain’t there to know if it’s workin’.”

“It’s a complicated situation. Things are better if I took a step back.”

“You mean ya ran away?” Stu added.

Dean let that one sit for a moment before he admitted. “Yeah, I ran away.”

“Son, how are ya gonna make things better if you’re willin’ to run out on ‘em?”

Dean held out his hands in defence. “Maybe it’s because I can’t fix it. Maybe some things just can’t be fixed.”

Stu didn't answer him for awhile, and when Dean looked up to see what he was doing, the old man was regarding the hunter intently. “Do ya know there is a tradition in Japan where people would fix their pottery by using gold?”

That was unexpected. “What?”

“My wife told me about it,” Stu explained. “It’s said that whenever somethin’ is broken, instead of throwin’ it away, they would fix the pieces back together and reset them by using gold as the glue. When they’re done, the pottery would have the gold line the cracks and make it a beautiful work of art. Makes you think, don’t it?”

It sounded like a cool idea, but Dean didn’t know where this was going. He hoped he would get to the point already, because his head was beginning to throb a little. “I guess.”

“Don’t you see? Some things are worth fixin’. You think the pot is going to be mended if you just walk away without even puttin’ the effort in. No, you gotta work at it if you want it repaired, and if it is worth it, you might get it fixed. And you never know, it might turn out more beautiful than it had in the first place.”

Dean huffed. He was understanding Stu’s meaning, but his head was getting worse by the minute. “You make it sound easy.”

“Oh, Lord, no. It’s never easy, but when have the best things in life have been? D’you think me and the wife would still be together if we didn’t work at it? Heck, we’ve spent most of our time in disagreements over anythin’, but we always… You alright, son?”

Dean was rubbing his temples and squinting his eyes away from the light. Even the background noise of the people in the bar was starting to grate on his nerves, and it wasn't even that loud. His head was hurting and it was starting to kill him. “Yeah, just a headache. I’m fine. What were you saying?”

Stu wasn’t convinced. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Dean was just about to say something, but the light seemed to be getting stronger, and his vision was beginning to sting. He closed his eyes from them, covered them with his hands, but the pain in his skull would not dissipate. It only seemed to get worse. “Is it really bright in here?”

“Bright?” Stu asked in confusion.

Dean groaned from the pain. “Yeah, it’s really — Ah!”

In just one moment, the pain had gone from a ten all the way up to one hundred. Dean screamed out from the lightening pain, and his knees buckled underneath him. He doesn’t even register falling on the floor. It was barely a scratch to what he was feeling in his head.

Dean felt as if his skull was splitting from the inside out, or if he was being stabbed by a blunt knife and it was being twisted in his brain. It was the worse feeling in the world, and it was getting worse by the minute. He thinks there were people around him, closing up on him, checking he was okay, but he’s not sure what is happening right now.

Even with his eyes tightly closed, Dean could see flashes of white light against the darkness. Every single one was accompanied with a pound against his skull, but then the flashes started to clear, become images, and Dean’s head was swimming in figures and pictures and —

_Wait, he knows those —_

_Cas?_

_What is going on…_

The next thing Dean knew he was in the middle of a waiting room. His headache didn’t seem as bad, but he didn't feel as if he was in his body. He was watching the room, and his thoughts and actions didn't seem to be his own…

Then all of a sudden he was seeing the sight of Cas sitting not too far from him. His bump was huge and perfectly round under his stretchy shirt. He’s ready to pop any day now, and… was he glowing? Is that the pregnancy glow that everybody talked about, because he looked good. Really good, in fact, but Dean has no idea what he is doing here.

He knows he is here, but… it doesn't feel like he is there. Like he was in the eyes of someone else’s consciousness…

_The waiting room wasn't as packed as it usually was in the morning. It was surprisingly quiet. There had been only one other patient that had gone in before them and that was ten minutes ago. They just happened to be really early today._

_Cas had been complaining of backache in the last few days, but the stubborn idiot refused to mention it because he didn't want to cause any unnecessary bother, and they already had an appointment scheduled. Sam was fine with that. Backache is normal, specially since Cas seemed to have ballooned in the last few days. It was the fact that Cas had neglected to mention the spotting he was having. That was why he is a stubborn idiot._

_Stubborn idiot._

_“Sam, will you please relax,” Cas soothed._

_“I can’t relax. I’m still mad at you. You should've said something to me, I’m happy to help.”_

_Cas nodded. “I know you are happy to help, the doctor said it was nothing to be alarmed of.”_

_“You don’t know that.”_

_“I would’ve said something, but he’s fine. He constantly proceeds to poke me in my bladder and stomach with great force. It is very uncomfortable.”_

_Sam couldn't help but smile. Even in Cas’ obvious discomfort, he couldn't hide the note of pride in his voice. “Yeah, that kid is definitely a Winchester.”_

_Cas nodded at that, but his expression went pensive immediately afterwards. “I noticed you were checking your cell phone outside.”_

_Sam froze. Damn, he thought he had been sneaky about trying to call Dean again_

_He had been trying to call Dean for the last few days, even though he knew it was not the best idea, but how could he not? Sam was not sure why he did it, but Dean is still his brother and… it doesn't matter. “Yeah.”_

_Cas nodded. “Did he reply?”_

_Sam was close to the edge of lying, but Cas wasn't that dumb. He wouldn't have believed him if he did. “No. No, he hasn’t.”_

_Cas sighed at that with a guilty look crossing his face. “Sam, I —”_

_Sam interrupted. He knew where this was going. “No, Cas, don’t go there.”_

_“But it’s my fault that he has left.”_

_“It was Dean’s decision. Not yours.”_

_“I never considered he would leave,” Cas admitted._

_When Sam turned to look over at Cas his features were full of sadness and longing for his friend._

_“Cas,” Sam said. He put his hand on his shoulder and the former angel looked up at him. “Dean was honest. You were honest. You did the right thing.”_

_Cas looked up at Sam and gave him a tentative smile. “You did the right thing. In helping us to be honest, I mean.”_

_“Yeah, well, that’s what I’m here for. What is taking so long?”_

_The doctor should've called them in by now, and the clocking was ticking further and further away from their original appointment timing. Sam was just about to go and complain to the receptionist when the doors finally opened and the doctor stepped out. He, the doctor, finally called Cas’ name and the hunter got up from his seat. Sam was just about to head into the room when Cas called out to him._

_“Um, Sam?” Cas complained, looking incredibly uncomfortable. “I, uh… can’t get up.”_

_Sam shouldn't have chuckled but it was funny. Cas hadn't gotten so big over the last few weeks, it was getting hard to keep up with the bump’s growth. He could hardly fit into any of his clothes anymore. Sam grabbed both of Cas’ hands and pulled him up from his seat and onto his legs. Cas huffed once he was up._

_They eventually made their way to the examination room. The doctor lead Cas in, and Sam was just behind him when a heavy hand landed on his shoulder and pulled him back._

_Sam jolted at the sudden motion, but when he turned to see who it was he relaxed a little bit, even though he couldn't hide his surprise. “Donna?”_

_It was the nurse from that night in the ER. She smiled at him brightly. “Hello again. I wasn't expecting to see you here today.”_

_“Likewise,” Sam stuttered. “I didn't know you worked here.”_

_“I pick up shifts here now and then. It’s a change of pace from the ER.”_

_“Yeah, I bet,” Sam said. Just as he was about to turn to go back to following Cas into the exam room, Donna grabbed his arm again and pulled his attention back to her._

_“How are things progressing with Castiel’s pregnancy? It can’t be much longer now.”_

_“Um, yeah,” Sam answered. “Yeah, it is. I have to go and see him now.”_

_But Donna grabbed his arm again. She was staring up at him with that plastered smile again. “I’m sure he will be fine.”_

_Sam didn't know what to think at that moment. Donna’s hand was gripping his arm tight and there was something about her demeanour that felt off to the hunter and he wasn't sure how to act around her. “I’d rather be by his side.”_

_“I’m sure you do, but why don’t we talk for a moment,” Donna said casually with fake smile that felt unnerving. “I would like to know how everything is going with him at home.”_

_Something wasn't feeling right about this and he wanted to get to Cas’s side. “It’s going fine.”_

_Sam made one more attempt to the door, but Donna was persistent. She would not let him go. “But it must be stressful. Expecting a baby, and so soon! It must be hard with just the two of you, now with your brother gone. I guess that happens in most cases, but I’m sure Cas made the right decision for him. Choosing your own child over your partner? There’s no other bond like it.”_

_“Donna,” Sam said. “I know you are being nice, but I would rather—”_

_But Sam paused. His mind instantly went over Donna’s words and there was something that didn't make sense. “How do you know Cas is keeping the baby?”_

_“You must have told me,” Donna replied calmly._

_“No," Sam said insistently and shaking his head. “No, I didn’t. Cas asked me not to tell anyone. In fact, how did you know Dean is….”_

_With a dawning realisation, Sam realised, too late, what he just walked into._

_“Who are you?”_

_Donna’s eyes hardened instantly, and her happy go-lucky persona was gone, like she never had one in the first place. From the corner of his eyes, Sam saw the silver blade run down her sleeve and into her palm._

_Donna yelled when she brought her blade down on Sam, but the hunter was fast. He dodged the sharp edge and the blade lodged itself in the wooden door. In a free opportunity, Sam hit Donna across the face, but she barely made a movement at the force. It only made her more mad._

_She grabbed Sam by his throat and dangled him up in the air. Sam clawed at her hands on his throat, but she was strong. Inhumanly strong. Her grip on him was making his head spin and he was beginning to lose focus._

_He looked around the empty space for anything that could help him, but there was nothing he could do from where he was being hauled up, but then he noticed the weapon. The one Donna attacked him with, and he knew it instantly._

_It was an angel blade._

_Meaning another angel._

_Cas!_

_Sam was getting close to passing out, but with his last few breaths he took uttered the words of an enochian incantation, and the effects were immediate. Donna’s face began to twist in agony and she inadvertently let go of Sam. They both fell to the ground; Donna was clutching her stomach in pain and whimpering, while Sam tried to get his breath back. He didn't have much time. He had to get to Cas._

_Sam scrambled onto his feet and made his way to Cas’ room. He forced the door open, calling out for Cas whilst doing so._

_Cas and the doctor were talking amongst each other, but the moment Cas saw Sam his eyes widened. “Sam?”_

_Sam could see the needle in the doctors hand before he could say anything about it, and by the tie he could it was too late._

_The doctor had forced the needle into Cas’ neck, holding onto Cas while he injected the stuff into his bloodstream. Cas tried to fight the doctor off, but whatever the he gave him was strong. Cas began to sway instantly, and the doctor grabbed hold of him and brought Cas to a chair._

_The moment Cas was on it, he seemed unable to move. His limbs were heavy and his head kept lolling side by side. “S… Sa — Sam!”_

_Before Sam could rush to Cas’ side, he was gripped with a horrible pain in his gut and he fell down to his hands and knees. He could taste the disgusting tang of copper on his tastebuds, and he spat it onto the floor — blood. He was bleeding internally, and the pain was too much for him to fight against._

_A fresh pain seized him and more blood dribbled out of Sam’s mouth. He groaned out against the ache in his bones and muscles, but his eyes watched carefully when Donna stepped past him and went straight to the doctor. He was still checking up on Cas, the former angel powerless and weak to stop him._

_“Is he on his way?” Donna asked._

_“He will be arriving shortly,” the doctor stated, his fingers pressed to Cas’ neck to check his pulse. “Everything is going the way he wants it to.”_

_And just as he said it, there was a bright beacon of light coming from nowhere and Sam had to cover his eyes from it. The next thing he knew, there was the sound of footsteps. New ones. They were right next to Sam. The hunter peaked up from under his lids and glanced up at the newcomer._

_It was a short guy with a smug aura and greying facial hair, who looked older than he was. He was staring down at Sam and winced at the messy display he was in and shook his head._

_Metatron._

_“Donna,” the Scribe of God called out. He looked at the nurse with so much disdain it nearly scared Sam. “I told you my orders were to leave these two unharmed, especially Castiel.”_

_Donna went to his side and instantly began to defend herself. “I had no choice. Sam Winchester figured me out, I —”_

_“Am making excuses,” Metatron lifted a hand up to her face, cutting her off completely. “I can forgive Gadreel for drugging Castiel, you forced his hand, but this…” Metatron looking down at Sam again. “Is just unnecessary violence. I had given you only one rule and you broke it, and you know what the consequences are for that.”_

_“No, please. I have done everything you have asked—”_

_“If that was true than I would not have to do this. Gadreel.”_

_The doctor — or Gadreel — obediently stepped forward, and just as Donna was about to plead against him, the angel placed his hand on her head and she began to scream like a banshee. The light started to grow brighter and brighter, Sam had to avert his eyes again, until it was gone and the shell of the nurse collapsed to the floor like a puppet been cut off from their strings. She was staring at Sam with black holes where her eyes should've been. Sam looked up at Metatron with as much anger as he could muster._

_“I gave her orders,” Metatron defended. He alternated looking between Sam and Cas. “I don’t want to harm either of you. That’s not my goal here.”_

_“Then what is your goal? Why are you here?” Sam choked out before coughing._

_“I thought it was simple,” Metatron shrugged. The he turned his gaze over to Cas and made his way over to him. “Hello, Castiel.”_

_No. Stay away from him!_

_The closer the scribe came to Cas, the more he tried to move from his drugged state, but it was useless. “N—No. St…stay b-bac…”_

_He ignored his pleas and Metatron placed his hand over the Cas’ extended abdomen and…_

_Something began to happen._

_The moment his hand touched him, Cas’ bump started to glow. It was building up, ever so calmly until it was a bright blue luminous glow. It danced in the air for what felt like forever, but it could’ve been a couple of seconds. Eventually, Metatron took his hand away and the light began to fade. “He’s ready. It’s time, Castiel. It’s time to bring our new brother to heaven.”_

_Cas weakly shook his head against that and tried to fight Metatron’s hold on him but, this time, he was stronger. Eventually, the scribe looked over a Sam._

_“Don’t worry, Sam Winchester. You’ll be fine. All you need to do is sleep it off.”_

_Metatron gave a quick nod over to Gadreel and he kneeled down to the hunter. The angel lifted his hand to Sam’s forehead, and the hunter was out like a light._

 

* * *

 

The moment the vision ended, the vice that was gripping Dean’s brain was gone in an instant. He felt like he could breathe again. He gasped loudly and opened his eyes to the light. It was no longer overbearing or stabbing him in the head. The pain was gone.

When he opened his eyes, Dean found that he was surrounded by a group of people. They were all staring down at him — oh, yeah. Dean’s on the floor. One of the faces he instantly recognised as Stu, another was the bartender he got his drinks from, but the others were nosy bystanders. Stu instantly leaned in closer when he saw Dean open his eyes.

“Son? Are you alright?” Stu asked with concern.

If Dean was being honest, he felt physically fine, but what he saw? His head was spinning, a little bit from the aftershock of what just happened, but —

_Oh, God. Was that real?_

A sudden panic clutched at Dean’s chest at what he saw and he scrambled off the floor as fast as he could. “I have to go.”

“What’s that?” Stu asked.

“I have to go home,” Dean said in a rush. The moment he got onto his feet he felt instantly dizzy and had to grab onto Stu just to gain some composure. He took in a deep breath and balanced himself out before attempting to walk. “I have to go home right now.”

“Don’t ya wanna be checked out first? That looked pretty bad—”

Dean snapped. “I’m fine! I’m fine. I can’t stay here, um…”

The hunter looked around the room and spotted his jacket on the pool table. He grabbed it quickly, shucking it on and patting his pockets for his keys. Once he found them, Dean practically bolted to the door.

“Don’t you want your money?” Stu called out.

“Keep it, I have to — I have to go!”

Dean was out that door faster than you could say hello. The car was parked not far from the bar, so he was able to get in the Impala, get the keys into the ignition and get the car rolling in less than a minute and he was driving like a lunatic on the road.

It was like some sort of instinctual need that was driving Dean’s every movement. He didn't need to think about where he was going, or what direction he had to go — his mind knew before Dean could even comprehend it. He didn't even blink when he saw the sign telling him he was leaving Jefferson City and followed the signs that told him where to go for Kansas.

It’s a seven hour drive back home.

Maybe Dean could do it in five if he breaks the speed limit.

 

* * *

 

Coming home to Lebanon instantly soothed the ache in Dean chest instantly, but it didn't curb the panic in his chest. The last few hours did not help calm him down, not even Metallica could keep his mind off of the worst case scenario. He had called Sam at least fifty times — nothing! For weeks Sam had been calling and now it’s radio silence. That could only mean something bad has happened.

_No, calm down. You don’t know yet._

Dean finally drove straight to the Bunker and ran inside without a second thought. The Bunker was dark — no one is in here. The empty space felt like an insult to Dean’s face, but he pushed that aside. Any noise he made echoed louder than it should, and it added to Dean’s mounting fear.

“Sam?! Cas?!” Dean cried out. “Anybody?!”

The only thing that called back was Dean’s parroting voice.

This is bad. This is really, really bad.

Dean didn’t know what else to do. He went through every room, trying to find anything that could tell him where to go, what to do. He searched the library, rummaged through the papers and drawers — heck, he searched everywhere, but he had no idea what he was looking for.

Once he searched every area of the room, Dean turned his attentions to the kitchen. There were fresh dishes in the sink from when Sam and Cas had breakfast and some little notes on a pad about getting stuff from the store, but there was nothing here that could—

There was a post-it note on the refrigerator door.

Dean went straight for it and grabbed it. Sam’s neat handwriting was scrawled on it with simple words that made a huge difference.

_Lebanon’s Centre for Women’s Health. 10:00_

Ten? Ten this morning?

Dean looked at the clock — 15:38.

That was nearly six hours ago.

_Where the hell are they?_

The centre? He thinks he knows where that is.

 

* * *

 

It didn’t take long for Dean to drive to the health centre, but from the sight of the premises Dean knew something wasn't right. The building looked fine, everything else was normal, but the car park was surprisingly empty. There was no sign of life or that anybody had been here in awhile.

Dean knew it was stupid to run into a building without back up, or even without a weapon, but he couldn't care about that now. The moment he went though the front doors, he knew he was in the right place.

This is the place. The place he saw in his freaky vision…

But it was empty. There was absolutely no sign of life.

But then he remembered — the exam room!

Dean rushed over to the door — it still had the angel blade lodged into it. He pulled it out of the wall — there still could be angels near by — and armed himself as he opened the door, but he visibly winced at what he saw.

The remnants of what used to be nurse Donna was strewn across the tiled floor with her gaping black holes, but across the room was his brother. Sam!

Sam was here!

“Sam!” Dean called out. He rushed over to his brother. He was still passed out on the floor with a pool of drying blood near his mouth, but he still had colour. He might not be dead. Dean gently lifted his brothers face up and lightly began to slap his cheeks. “Sammy? Wake up, come on. Let me see those eyes of yours. Come on.”

Dean coaxed and enticed Sam to open his eyes, and just as he was afraid of the worst, his little brothers lids began to flicker open. “De…. Dean?”

He was so relieved, Dean could cry. “That’s better. Keep those eyes open for me.”

“Wha…” It was an awkward angle, but Sam tried to look around the room to see where the hell he was. “How did you —

“Sam, that doesn’t matter. Where’s Cas?”

Then, suddenly, Sam wasn't confused anymore. His eyes were full of panic and he tried to get up off the floor,but Dean had to grab hold of him when his knees began to buckle. “They took him.”

_They?_

_Oh, no…_

“Who took him?” Dean asked, but he already knew the answer. If his vision was right, he knew the fucking answer.

Sam gained enough composure for him to finally answer. “Metatron. Metatron took Cas.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The art Stu mentions is called Kintsugi or as Kintsukuroi.
> 
> Let me know what you think and please rate and review.
> 
> Thanks xx


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so sorry this has taken so long. I’ve been ill to the point where my brain refused to cooperate with me, but I’m starting to feel better. Hopefully. If it stays that way.
> 
> There might be some trigger warnings for this chapter, so I’ll put them in the endnotes if you want to double check. I didn’t want to put them here in case people didn’t want to read spoilers for the chapter.
> 
> I mentioned this in the first chapters notes, but here’s more detail. I said I wasn’t going to mention the Hell trials or Sam being possessed by an angel, so Sam and Dean would never have met Gadreel before in this fic. Just thought I clarify that in case anyone gets confused.
> 
> This probably isn’t important, but my autocorrect kept changing Metatron to Mutation. Am I the only one who thought that was fitting? That’s the only time me and autocorrect have actually agreed on something.
> 
> Spelling, grammar… all the mistakes are my fault.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy.

Dean grabbed Sam by his arms and pulled him up onto his unsteady feet. Whatever the angel did to him was still being felt. Sam was practically swaying on his legs. Dean saw he wasn't strong enough to stand, so he pulled up a chair for him, and Sam didn't even protest. He looked to drained to do anything but sleep as his body recovered, but they didn't have time for that. Not now.

Sam swayed a moment in the seat, but Dean kept his hands near his shoulder to help him stay up right. “How are you feeling?”

Sam wet his dry lips before he croaked. “Like I’ve been hit by a truck.”

“Do you need some water?” Dean asked.

Sam motioned to Dean a weak attempt to wave him off. “I’ll be fine. I’m fine.”

No, he was not fine. Dean knew Sam was too stubborn to admit it, but they didn't have time to argue with each other. There were other pressing things that were too important to ignore. “Sam, what happened?”

Sam took a moment before he said anything. He looked exhausted from just trying to use his brain right now, but he persevered. “Cas had an appointment, said he was feeling some discomfort… um, we got called in and I bumped into Donna.”

“Donna? Nurse Donna?” Dean said, pointing to the fried corpse.

Sam followed where Dean was pointing and visibly winced. He must have forgotten she was there. “Yeah, uh. She was trying to stall me. When I realised what she was trying to do, she attacked me… they were angels. All of them. They were working for Metatron, he came here and… they knocked me out and took Cas.”

It was just like Dean had seen in his vision. Everything.

_How is that possible?_

“Okay, the doctor who took Cas. Tell me everything about him.”

“There’s not much. He was a good doctor, he and Cas got along, he…” Sam’s voice drifted off when his eyes lit up when he remembered something else. “Oh, God.”

“What?” Dean asked urgently.

“It was him that pushed Cas to give the baby up. When Cas was unsure about the pregnancy, Dr Gadreel—”

“Gadreel?” That name was familiar to Dean. He had heard it before. Metatron called the doctor Gadreel in the vision. The damn angel didn't even bother to change his name!  
  
“Dr. Jason Gadreel,” Sam announced with bitterness before rubbing a hand over his face. “How could I have not seen this?”

Dean wanted to soothe his brothers guilt, but he couldn’t afford him to lose track now. “Sam, listen to me; this is not your fault. You need to tell me, what did Gadreel say to Cas?”

Sam shook his head for a moment to himself and went back to what he was saying. “I’m not sure. I left the room for a moment and when I took Cas home he told me he wanted to consider adoption. When we had our next appointment, Dr. Gadreel was happy to discuss Cas’ decision and give us information. That bastard, he planned this! He was baiting us the whole time.”

“Sam, what happened here? Please tell me.”

Sam continued. “He drugged Cas with something. He could barely move, I couldn't do anything, Metatron came in, he did something to Cas and he was glowing, and… that’s all I can remember.”

Dean nodded at that, but it was okay. His vision seemed to be right, so he could fill in the blanks from there… but how? How the hell did he have a vision? Sam hadn't one of those in a long time, not since the demon blood thing, but Dean has never had an inclination of having something like that. He doesn’t! Why is this happening?

The frustration was getting to Dean, and he ran his hands over face. “What the hell? Something’s not right about this. We hear nothing from Metatron for almost a year and, all of a sudden, he shows up now? Why? What does he want?”

Sam looked just as confused as Dean, but then he seemed to remember something and his face was filled with impending worry. “He said it was time to bring our new brother to heaven.”

Yes, Dean remember him saying that, but why? That just made Dean even more annoyed. “That’s the end game? He wants the baby? None of this makes sense! Why would he want our kid?”

“I don’t know,” Sam answered, apprehensive. “Dean, what is he doing to Cas? Where could he have taken him?”

Dean let out a humourless laugh. “Heaven? Heck, maybe even Pluto, for all we know. They could be anywhere by now.”

“No, we still have time,” Sam said. With all his strength, Sam got up on his shaky legs and fought against the obvious exhaustion that weighed his body down. Whatever the angels did to Sam, it had really wiped him out, big time. “They only just grabbed him not long before you showed up. If we do something now…”

There was something on Dean’s face that told Sam something was wrong. When the seconds became a bit too long for Sam’s liking, he looked round the room to find what was going on around him, and his eyes landed on Donna’s body. When Sam kneeled next to the scorched remains, Dean knew what he was doing — he tried to pick up one of her limbs, but it wouldn't budge from where it lay. It was stiff from rigour mortis. That only happens a few hours after death.

Dean didn't have to point that out to Sam. They both knew it very well, and Sam panicked at the realisation of what that means for them.

Sam turned to his brother when he gave up on trying to move the limbs. “How long was I out?”

“About six hours,” Dean told him straight. There was no point in sugar-coating it.

“Oh, no…” Sam’s face was full of worry.

“Sam, we’ll get him back,” Dean urged, but a little bit lost. He doesn't know how they are going to do that, but there is no way in hell he’s walking away from this. “We’ll find a way. We always do. We just gotta figure out where the hell they are and go from there—”

“Dean, Cas can’t give birth,” Sam interrupted.

Dean doesn't know why that was suddenly relevant. “I know that, but we will find him before—”

“No, Dean, he can’t give birth.”

The urgency in Sam’s voice had Dean utterly confused for a moment, until the remembered. Cas’ condition. High risk. Haemorrhage. Suddenly, Dean’s gut was filled with ice cold fear again. “The placenta…”

Sam nodded. “That’s why we came in today. He has a c-section penciled in for next week, this was meant to be a precautionary scan. He could go into labour any minute.”

Dean’s head was spinning faster than he could process, and he was sure he was going to pass out if he didn't grab onto the closest thing. He gripped onto the counter, to the point where his knuckles were going white from the intensity of it, but he needed it more than ever. Dean tried to get himself to calm down — It didn't work. His panicked mind went straight to listing all the worst things that could happen — complications, haemorrhage, severe bleeding — and it was all he could focus on. “But what if he does? What if he goes into labour before we can find him? Is there any chance he would be okay?”

Sam took a moment to think back. “Uh, the previa is marginal now, but the doctors didn't want to risk a vaginal birth. They thought a c-section would be the safest option to go with.”

That didn't help to settle Dean’s nerves. “But — but Gadreel knows about Cas’ condition. He could make sure not to let Cas give birth naturally. He knows it could endanger them both. There might be a chance!”

“We don’t know that,” Sam admitted in fear. He was starting to get as worked up as his brother. It was like they were feeding off each other just from the physical energy in the room. They couldn't help it. “Dean, we don’t know what Metatron is planning. What if…”

Sam couldn’t finish that sentence, but Dean wasn't going to let him leave it there. “What if what, Sam?”

“What if Cas is a means to an end? What would would happen if Metatron has no use for him anymore?”

“No!” Dean almost screamed at that, but he held back a moment when Sam jumped in surprise. He didn't mean to do that. He didn’t. He took a deep breath and pointed at Sam, trying to stay calm. “No, Cas is not gonna die. He will be okay. He will.”

Dean wished he could believe in that, but honestly? He has no idea what is going to happen, but he couldn't let himself think like that. Not when Cas was in danger.

“Everyone will be okay,” Dean said again, but he wasn't sure if it was for his brother’s sake or his own. He couldn't tell anymore. He was starting to feel light headed from the whole experience. “We just need a plan, that’s all. How do you track an angel?”

Dean waited for Sam to throw up any ideas into the air, heck, even the stupid ones would be of great help, but his brother was oddly silent. When Dean turned to look at him, Sam was already staring right back. He was watching Dean carefully with a hint suspicion.

“What?” Dean asked.

“Dean, how did you know to come here? How did you know where I was?”

_I don’t know. I had a weird psychic-demon-blood-like vision where I saw everything you just described in vivid detail, almost as if I was in the same room, and now Cas and my son are possibly in danger and I have no idea how to save them._

Yeah, that would make more sense than the answer Dean ended up giving his brother. “It was a lucky guess.”

Of course that explanation didn't work. To be fair, the veins in Dean’s head were beginning to pulse uncomfortably against his skull, so he wasn't thinking straight. Sam could see through Dean’s attempt at a lie and he began to push his brother for the truth. “Where have you been, Dean? You’ve been gone for weeks and you suddenly just show up? Just when something bad happens?”

“I can’t explain it —”

Sam’s eyes narrowed. “Did you know this was going to happen?”

“Sam, no —”

Sam’s look to Dean almost became openly hostile. “Did you know something was going to happen to Cas?”

“What?” Dean asked indignantly. “No! No, I didn't know this was going to happen. What the hell, Sam? Why would you think that?”

“What am I supposed to think?” Sam argued back. “Cas is gone and you’re suddenly back? What have you done, Dean? If I find out you are involved in this somehow—”

“I have nothing to do with this!” Dean shouted back, holding back a wince. He rubbed his temple absentmindedly, but it did nothing in soothing him. “Sam, I am trying to help—”

“But how did you know we needed your help in the first place? Dean, what have you done? Did you sell Cas out?”

“I would never do that!”

Sam really began to beg. “Okay, I don’t care if you meant to do it, or if it was an accident. Just tell me where he is. Please? Just tell me, and I promise we will never bother you again, but if something happens to either of them in the meantime, I swear I will skin you alive—”

“Sam, this has nothing to do with me— ow!” Dean complained. His hands flew over his eyes when the light became suddenly too bright and more than Dean could handle, but he tried to push past it. “I—I haven't done anything to… ah!”

“Dean, are you okay?” Sam asked.

Dean squeezed his eyes shut from the light. “I don’t — it’s a little headache, that’s all…”

_Wait. Headache?_

_Oh no…_

It was happening again, Dean thought as he clutched at his head. The familiar throb and the blinding light are starting to rise up and engulf Dean whole. The pain is beginning to simmer in his skull, and the familiar lightening bolts of agony that were so intense, even Dean couldn't hold back anymore. He cried out, his knees giving out and he collapsed onto the floor.

“Dean?”

The hunter could pick up his brother calling out to him, but it was getting lost in his muffled hearing. It wouldn't be long until he wouldn't hear anything anymore. Another shot of pain went through his veins, and then he could see the flashes of another place blazing past him faster than he could comprehend.

_No, not again…_

Dean knew he was screaming, but he suddenly realised there was another scream he could hear, somewhere far away. He knew it wasn't Sam. He had heard his brother cry out in agony before, knew it by heart. This voice was deeper, but it was too faint for him to identify, but he thinks he knows it. He’s just not sure.

“Dean?” Sam cried out to him, grabbing hold of his brother thrashing on the floor. “Dean, what’s happening?”

Dean couldn't hear a word Sam was saying. The pain was hitting him now, stronger than ever. The room he was in with Sam was fading away and flashes of another started to take over his consciousness.

For awhile, Dean couldn't see anything. For a moment, it was completely blank, silent…

But then there was a scream. It pierced through his mind and left his ears ringing.

Dean thinks he can recognise it, but the lights were flashing in the dark, and he couldn't think for a moment.

The scream rang through again, but this time more clearer and defined.

_The first thing Dean saw were the angels in the room. From what he could see there were at least eight of them, wearing the people they had duped into using them as vessels. He didn’t recognise their faces, but they were all crowded around somewhere and watching it with interest._

_The stillness of the room was obliterated by a harrowing howl._

_And Dean finally realised who it was coming from._

_Cas._

_Cas was screaming like this was the worst pain he had ever felt in his entire existence._

_From what Dean saw, they must be in Heaven because everything about this room felt cold and sterile. It looked like an office. There was a desk in the corner that was pushed out of the way, but there was some sort of reclining chair in the middle of the room. For some reason, it reminded Dean of one of those chairs you would see in a dental surgery, but he had a bad feeling it was not used for dentistry._

_There were metal restraints on the arm rests, and they were closed tightly around someones wrists. They struggled against the bonds, but they wouldn't budge. The wrists looked pale white and delicate, as if they could break easily from too much force._

_Cas…_

_The former angel was being held against the chair by his bound arms on the armrests, and feet bound on a pair of stirrups that lifted his legs up and left him utterly exposed. No matter how much he tried to pull or struggle at the bonds, Cas wasn't going anywhere, even if he wasn't screaming in pain. Whatever the angels were doing to him had Cas completely trapped._

_And he did not look good. He had gone a deathly shade of white, lighter than the hospital gown he had been forced into, and even his bright blue eyes had dimmed in colour. How was that even possible? Dean didn't even know that could happen. Not to Cas. Whatever the angels were doing to him was draining him._

_That didn't mean Cas wasn't fighting. He kept yanking at his restraints, even if all he’d achieved was some rubbed raw bruises on his wrists. Cas was trying to hold back as many screams as he possibly could, but sometimes it became to much for him to bear, and he couldn't control his own voice anymore. He let out the most anguished cries, and Dean was lashing out in any attempt to help._

_There was something different about the shape of the bump that Dean couldn't help but notice. It seemed to have… dropped? Is that right? Dean wasn't sure. It definitely wasn't the same as before, but Dean’s mind instantly landed on the hand grabbing the round flesh that seemed to be the source of Cas’ pain._

“Dean? Dean, wake up. Wake up, damn it!”

Dean could hear his brothers voice bleeding through into his consciousness, but it was too far way, and he was being pulled back before he knew it…

_Metatron was doing something to Cas, because the spot where he was touching instantly began to glow like it had before in the health centre. A clear white and blue glimmer seemed to be coming from inside him. The longer Metatron touched him, the more Cas thrashed against his restraints and grunted against the torture he was suffering._

_And the angels… not a single one of them lifted a finger to help him._

_“Shh… Castiel,” Metatron whispered to him. He brought his free hand closer to Castiel’s head, and even though he flinched away from the contact, the scribe ran his fingers through Cas’ sweat soaked hair. “Screaming is not going to help you in this matter. Although, I have to agree that the process does look incredibly painful. That’s the curse of Eve for you, but you are only making it worse for yourself. Relax. Just let us do what we have to do.”_

_Cas riled up as much energy as he could and shook his head violently and gave Metatron the best death glare he could while he was in so much pain. The scribe merely tutted to the angel, stating: “You don’t have a choice in the matter. I was trying to be nice.”_

_If Cas was going to say something, his body seized in what looked like the close thing to a contraction and could only whimper pitifully. That seemed to please Metatron greatly, and he smiled. “Gadreel, are we getting close?”_

_Gadreel? The doctor! He was kneeling in front of Cas’ open legs, surgical gloves and mask to boot. He had a tray of surgical tools by his side and two scrubbed in nurses waiting patiently on his command. “The placenta is almost out. He’s starting to bleed profusely, but it won’t be much longer now.”_

_Metatron nodded. “You know what to do.”_

_“I don’t think we have the luxury of waiting,” Gadreel stated. “If we want to ensure their survival, we need to deliver now.”_

_“Then let’s do it,” Metatron agreed, not even bothering to hide the glee in his tone. He took his hand away from Cas’ bump, and the glow started to fade away from the lack of contact. The scribe leaned in closer to Cas and whispered in his ear. “It’s time, Castiel. Stop trying to fight what your body is telling you to do. It’s time for you to push.”_

_Cas’ body began to tremble from Metatron’s words. His muscles instantly tensed, his instincts going haywire at what he desperately felt the urge to do…_

Sam’s voice was getting desperate, more frantic with every single second that went by. “Open your eyes, Dean. Come on, Dean! Wake up!”

_Time must have passed because the next thing Dean knew, Cas’ body was seized in tension, bearing down on every pull of a contraction. He was giving it everything he had; eyes squeezed shut, his body curling in where he could from the restraints, grittied teeth, his face going red from the sheer effort._

_When the contraction passed, Cas fell back into the chair, panting loudly from the aftershocks._

_“Gadreel, what is the progress?” Metatron asked._

_“I can see the head. It won’t be much longer now, but I fear Castiel is losing his strength.”_

_Gadreel had a point. If Cas wasn’t feeling the many eyes of his brothers and sister, and the pain he was feeling, he would be close to passing out._

_But Metatron didn't seem concerned. “Will we need to resort to plan B?”_

_“Not yet. I might be able to help.”_

_Before Gadreel could explain, he turned to his tray and grabbed a pair of episiotomy scissors. Cas was so exhausted, he didn't realise Gadreel reaching out to grab them until the angel was using bring them in between his legs. With one cut, Cas was groaning against the sting, but he was too tired to put his usual bite into it. He was just too tired…_

_Cas didn’t have long to rest. The building pain was radiating to his back and stomach, his bump tightening with the impending contraction. His bound hands grabbed onto the armrests, using it for leverage as he began to push again, unable to keep his pained whimpers back any longer—_

“Dean, wake up…” Sam cried out. “Dean, snap out of it!”

Dean was pretty sure Sam had slapped him across the face to get him to respond in some way, but he couldn’t feel it.

He wasn't sure what was going on anymore. Dean wasn't sure whether he was following what was happening — all he was getting is flashes. Fast, gone before he knew it, the screams never ending—

_Something wasn't right._

“Dean?”

_It was a never ending scream, blood curdling, in pure agony—_

“Dean?”

_One wave of pain that had Cas shaking and shouting and—_

“Dean!”

_Then all of a sudden… nothing._

_It was quiet. No one dared to make a sound._

_Then there was a cry. A small, shuddering, but strong cry._

_Cas was limp and gasping from the chair, but he tried to lift his head. He was too exhausted to move too much, he could barely fill his lungs with enough air to think, but that didn’t stop him._

_One of the nurses came close to Gadreel with an open towel in her hands. From what he could see, Gadreel was holding the baby carefully, staring down at the new infant with open awe and admiration, and Dean could understand why._

_The newborn was shimmering bright in his glowing grace, in lustrous blues and crystal whites, and it was so overpowering, it might have burned Dean’s eyes if he was seeing this in the flesh._

_He continued to shine with every second that he wailed. His little hands were clenched into fists, and his little legs kicked out at the open air — a fighter, Dean thought. Of course he would be. He’s a lot like Cas, already. He’s even got some of his hair, too. So much dark hair…_

_Gadreel handed the baby into the nurses waiting hands. She held him mechanically, devoid of emotion, but Gadreel didn't notice. He was reaching out to the tray and grabbed two clamps for the umbilical cord. Once they were latched on, the angel cut the cord between them and returned his attentions to the infant._

_If Dean could feel his muscles at this point, he would be twitching with he need to go comfort his son. He was wailing much longer than he should be, but his cries died down when Gadreel finally swaddled him up in the towel, but it still didn’t calm him. The glow that surrounded him had faded away, slightly, but his whimpers were still distressed and unhappy, and he began to fight from his confining entrapment._

_Gadreel brought the bundle closer to his chest, ready to walk over to Metatron, and —_

_“Wait, please?” Cas’ voice was so hoarse from all his screaming, it hardly sounded like him. If Dean didn't see the words coming rom his mouth, he never would've been able to recognise it. Cas pleaded with Gadreel, his eyes trying to get a peak at what was being hidden so far away from him. “Please?”_

_For a moment, Dean could’ve sworn he saw a flicker of doubt or compassion in the angel’s stern eyes, but he gave Cas what he wanted. He leaned forward, pulling back the covers obscuring the baby’s face._

_It looked like Cas had forgotten his hands were bound, because he tried to move his hand, only for it to pull against the metal. He didn't care. Cas’ eyes were locked on the wriggling baby in his towel who was already kicking up a fuss. It made him smile, even if it was a weak one._

_Dean wanted to see. He wanted to see so badly, but he couldn’t. He couldn't move to see his son, but there was also something wrong with Cas. He had gone pale before, but his complexion had gone white, even to the point where Dean couldn't make out the lines of his lips, or —_

_Wait? Should he be breathing that hard?_

_Cas’ chest was struggling with every gulp of air, and Dean was certain he could hear a wheezing with every inhale. He doesn't remember there ever being any breathing problems when he was pregnant, but—_

_Dean went cold the moment he saw what was wrong._

_There was a heavy stream of blood dripping down from the chair and onto the sterile white titles._

_“Gadreel.”_

_Metatron’s voice broke the angel out of his stupor, and hurried over to the scribe. Cas craned his neck to keep his gaze on them. The scribe took the baby without a word before holding him close to his chest. The baby whimpered against his hold, more loudly than he did when he was being held by Gadreel, and he refused to settle. The sight of it was even making Dean’s chest hurt, and he couldn’t do anything. Nothing!_

_Keeping his emotionless gaze on the bundle, Metatron pulled down part of the towel and studied the newborn’s face. The moment he saw him, he was just as taken back by the baby as Gadreel was. In fact, now Dean was looking, so were the other angels. Dean had never seen so many angels taken in so completely at the sight of something before. They were awestruck, astounded… and Dean did not like what it could mean one bit._

_“Beautiful,” Metatron whispered._

_Without another word, the scribe began to walk away with the baby. Two of the other angels opened the door for him and held it open for him to walk through. The second he was out of his one of sight, Cas began to fight his restraint again with new found energy, trying to crane his head at an impossible angle to find them, and with every inch that separated them, the more Cas descended into a panic._

_“No, Metatron,” Cas called out. “Give him back. Please? Don’t take him — Metatron? Metatron! Give him back!”_

_But the scribe just walked away, ignoring Cas’ frenzied cries until the doors closed behind him._

 

* * *

 

Suddenly, the vision was gone, and the vice grip released Dean’s mind, just like it did the last time it happened.

Dean gasped in as much air as his lungs could possibly hold, his chest heaving from the the effort of trying to breath again and it physically ached to do so. Sam was clamouring at his brother, grabbing onto his flying limbs and trying to get his attention, but Dean was in a panic. He could feel his heart pounding against his chest, and the sweat that was breaking out over his body —

“Dean! Dean, you’re okay. You’re okay. Stay calm, stay calm…”

His little brother’s soothing voice helped Dean get some clarity and equilibrium back, even if just a little bit. He used it as his anchor to calm down. Letting Sam hold onto him, Dean closed his eyes against Sam’s chest and took deep breaths… two seconds in, four seconds out…

When Dean opened his eyes, he felt a bit calmer, but he was still on edge, but no mental exercise was going to fix that. When he tried to lift his head, Sam pawed at his face, getting him to look his brother straight in the eye and checked him over.

“Dean? Are you—”

The hunter nodded against the hold of Sam’s hands on his face. “I’m okay. I’m okay.”

Dean wasn't sure how true that was, but it was all he could think of to say.

“Dean, what the hell happened? It was like you were having a seizure.”

The hunter didn't know what Sam was talking about. Then he remembered. “I saw… I saw Cas.”

Sam blinked in shock. “What do you mean you saw Cas?”

“I mean I _saw_ him. He was in some room, he was… he was giving birth, there was so much blood and…”

Dean’s explanation only seemed to confuse his brother more. “Are you saying you had a vision? As in, like, one of my old visions?”

Dean nodded. “That’s why I came back. I saw everything that happened here when Cas was taken. What you told me… I saw it. In a bar. Surrounded by strangers. In Jefferson City. What’s happening to me, Sammy?”

“You said Cas was giving birth,” Sam asked. He looked just as freaked as Dean, but he distracted himself from the impending meltdown he was feeling. “What was happening? You have to tell me.”

Dean didn't want to waste time on that. He had to help. He pushed away at Sam’s hands and scrambled up onto his feet, ready to go… he doesn't know where to go, but he had to do something. “They took him. Sam, we have to find them. Now. We gotta find them before—”

“Dean, you need to calm down.”

“I can’t fucking calm down! Metatron has my son and Cas is bleeding out! Don’t tell me to calm down!”

“Than where are they?! How are we suppose to help when we have no fucking clue where they are?!”

“But Cas is running outta time! Sam, you didn’t—” Dean couldn’t finish that. The images of what he saw were too terrible to revisit. “You didn’t see… you didn’t see how bad it was.”

Sam blanched at the admittance, but he put on a brave face. “Dean, you don’t know that. Sometimes my visions didn't happen for hours into the future, sometimes days. It might not have happened yet. We might have time to save them.”

Dean didn't feel too hopeful with that, but before he could say that, a sound made both brothers jump. When the shock past, Dean realised the sound was one he recognised; a ringtone. Sam’s ringtone. Sam groped at his pocket until he had the phone in his hand and checked the caller ID.

“Sam, who is it?” Dean asked.

“I don’t recognise the number,” Sam shook his head, but he swiped to answer the call, anyway. “Hello? Dr. Brag? Is something wrong?”

Dean couldn’t hear what the doctor was saying, but he didn't need too. Sam looked up at his brother with pure terror in his eyes, and Dean knew that they didn't have time anymore.

 

* * *

 

Sam and Dean couldn't remember the drive to the hospital, not even if their lives depended on it. Everything went fuzzy after the phone call, Dean doesn't know how they got to the hospital in the first place, but he was being pulled out of the car by his brother and they were running into the ER without a second thought.

The waiting rooms were packed, but Dean pushed every fucker out of his way and went straight to the receptionist. Her eyes went large at the sight of the imposing brothers frame, or maybe it was the frenzied look in their eyes — it didn't matter! Dean went straight to her, ignoring all the protests of everyone who was waiting before them.

It was Dean who spoke in a rush. “We’re looking for Dr. Brag. He said our friend was brought in here, it’s an emergency!”

“We all have an emergency, buddy. That’s why it’s called an emergency room,” said one of the idiots waiting by the desk.

Dean was not in the mood for this bastard’s attitude. “Fuck you, asshole!”

The idiot looked like he was ready to fight back but, luckily, Sam stepped in. “We got a call from Dr. Brag, saying our friend, Castiel, was brought in, and said he was attacked.”

“Now stop screwing around and tell us where he is,” Dean growled. He didn’t have the patience to be nice, and when the receptionist took too long to come up with an answer, Dean gave up on waiting. “Fuck this.”

Dean ran past the crowds of people and down the halls. The receptionist shouted after him, but he just ket running. He was pretty sure Sam wasn’t too far behind, because he could hear the same footsteps following after him wherever he went. He wasn't sure where he was going, or what he was doing, but he kept rushing through the building until he got somewhere. He was about to turn another corner when he saw him.

“Doc!”

Dr. Brag was about to rush into a surgical room, mask and gloves adorned until he heard his name. Sam and Dean ran over to his side, both of them out of breath, but wild with worry.

“What happened? What happened?!” Dean demanded.

They didn't have time for pleasantries and Brag knew that. He was still putting on the rest of his get up as he was talking to them. “He was dumped outside of the hospital from a black van before it drove away. He already started haemorrhaging, I guess from the birth, but we can’t seem to stop it.”

“What about the baby?” Sam asked.

Brag shook his head. “There was no sign of the baby.”

“B-but Cas, is he going to be okay? What are his chances?” Dean pleaded.

Brag looked between the brothers with a serious expression. “Not good.”

That was the first time Dean had ever seen the doctor look grave in his professionalism, even when he was giving him that talk down the last time he saw him, and Dean instantly knew how severe this was. Brag didn't waste another moment, and he went through the surgery doors without a word. The brothers were left alone in the hallway, everything going suddenly quiet.

This was bad. Really, really bad…

Dean couldn't remember how long they waited in that hallway for. It could be hours, maybe minutes. It didn't make sense to him. Nothing made sense other than the pounding in his chest and the surging panic that threatened to close up his throat.

Sam didn't seem to be in a talking mood, either. He just waited by his side in that empty hallway in silence, waiting for… they were just waiting, and they didn’t know if what they were waiting for was even what they wanted to hear in the end.

But they waited.

And waited.

And waited…

But the doors finally opened, and Dr Brag stepped out. Sam and Dean were instantly on their feet and scrambling over to the doctor in desperation.

Dean couldn’t help but wince at the sight of Brag. His scrubs were stained with blood and he looked like he just came back from a gory battle in a horror movie, and he even had some smeared across his face. It instantly made Dean tense even more.

“Doc?” Dean asked. “Doc, what happened? Is Cas okay?”

Dr. Brag took a moment to remove the mask. Just that simple action, and the harrowed expression on Brag’s face, told Dean everything he knew, but when Brag finally spoke…

“I’m so sorry.”

Dean was certain his heart stopped beating.

_No…_

“We did everything we could,” Brag said in a professional tone. “We tried to stop the bleeding, but Castiel had already lost too much blood. We tried to restart his heart, but even if we could his brain would’ve been deprived of oxygen for too long…”

_No, no, no, no…_

Dean wasn't even aware he was shaking his head. “You’re wrong. I-It can’t be Cas. Cas is a fighter. It can’t… it can’t be him, he—”

“Dean,” Sam’s voice broke at his name, and Dean saw his brother’s eyes brimming with unshed tears desperate to fall. He was watching his brother with a grave expression that Dean did not want to see.

“No,” Dean was adamant. “It’s a mistake. Sam, he’s — he’s not dead. Cas can’t… he can’t… they must have the wrong guy.”

The doctor didn't make a move or say another word. It could’ve been a professional tactic to help break the news to people, but it was only making Dean antsy and his hands started to shake. Sam was unnervingly quiet, too. Why isn’t he saying anything? Why won’t he say anything?

“You’ve got the wrong guy!” Dean shouted. “You have, you’ve got the guy!”

Dean couldn't take standing in this empty hallway anymore. Despite the open space, he felt closed in and unable to breathe when there was nothing wrong, but it felt like something was clawing at his lungs. It hurt. It physically hurt. He can’t stay here.

Before he knew it, Dean had shoved the doctor out of his way, and pushing into the surgery room. He doesn't know why he did it. He didn't even think about it, but he was there, and he swears to God he wish he had just stayed back.

Do you ever hear those moments when people say everything went into slow motion? Dean never believed them. He just thought it was a stupid trope in movies and TV, but he was so wrong. That over hyped slo-mo was just how his life suddenly felt.

The first thing he saw were the two nurses. There was a young blonde — she looked like the chirpy, bubbly type if she wasn't looking so somber from the job — turning off the electrical equipment. She was taking a long time turning off the heart rate monitor that had the flatlined tone ringing in the room, but it stopped when the screen turned black. There were a pair of paddles on the side — they had been turned off, too — and the blonde nurse proceeded to put them away.

The older brunette nurse — the one with the bags under her eyes from a long shift — she was next to the table. She was taking the pulse monitor clips off his fingers, one by one, until his hands were free. His cold, white hands. They looked so small, like a birds, but they were capable of so much. Once the brunette nurse was done with that, she took off the oxygen mask over his face. The elastic from the back of his head followed suit, and it flicked his brown hair up in a spike before gravity pulled it down, but his face was clear. There was no denying who it was.

But he didn’t… he didn't look… he just looks like he’s sleeping. Dean would know, he had slept by his side at night. He’s seen how peaceful he is when he is dreaming. It’s the only time the angel never frowns. But this is wrong. His chest would be using from every deep inhale, sometimes he would twitch in his sleep. One time his leg kicked him awake from a full body jolt, and the surprise on his face made Dean laugh. But this…

He wasn’t moving, not his chest, not anything. That white look that people describe the dead, that was a lie. He looked grey. A deathly ash grey — maybe it was the lighting, but… _no._

_No…._

“Cas,” Dean whispered.

Cas didn’t answer him, he didn’t even move — he couldn’t. He was never going to answer him again —

The clawing at Dean’s chest had just turned into a horrible sinking sensation. If this is what drowning feels like, he couldn’t fight off the waves burying him under. He couldn’t breathe. Dean tried to gasp in as much air as he could, causing tears to fall that he didn't know were accumulating. They stung Dean’s eyes, they were flowing hot down his cheek, but _oh god…_

He didn't even feel two large hands grabbing his shoulders, and he didn’t even realise he was back in the hallway with his little brother, and — oh, Sammy. He was crying, too. His eyes were red rimmed, his cheeks were wet, and he was calling his name out to him, but all Dean could understand was the flatlining on the monitor ringing in his ears.

“Cas?” He could start to hear his brother’s faint voice getting clearer. There was a crackle to it, the inevitable wobble before the broken sob.

No, wait… that was coming from him.  
  
But the moment he finally sobbed, it was like the opening of a dam.

The wounded cries spilled out of Dean. Sam quickly pulled him into a suffocating hug, one that Dean wished Sam would hug him higher, because he felt himself falling apart at the seams. He was soaking Sam’s shirt from his tears — he could feel his shirt getting wet, too, from where Sam’s face was pressed into it, and Sam was trembling underneath his clenched fists in his brother’s jacket.

This couldn’t be happening, this couldn’t be happening — It couldn’t!

But Cas’ corpse was laying in the other room, and it was. Oh, it was…

“Noooo!” Dean howled into Sam’s shoulder. He tried to shake the images out of his mind, but they wouldn’t leave him alone.

They cried in the empty hallway.

If someone came by, no one dared to disturb them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So… what do you think? xx
> 
> Trigger warnings —graphic childbirth, episiotomy, bleeding and major character death.


	9. Chapter 9

The nurses had the chance to clean Cas up when the brothers were gone.

Dean didn’t acknowledge how much blood there was before. It wasn't the first thing he saw when he barged through the doors, but he couldn't believe how blind he was to it. There were a pile of red paper towels in the trash can soaked with it, some of it had dripped onto the tiled floor, but someone came along to mop it all up. Dean knows hospitals are meant to be clean, but it was like Cas’ surgery never happened. How many people beforehand came into this room to die? It was probably more than Dean could care to count. It was a hospital. People die everyday, but did it have to feel like such a cycle of patients coming in and wheel them out when their hearts stop beating?

Dean doesn’t want to think about that. He doesn’t want to think about anything at all. His head hurts. Not because he was going to have another vision, but because he was so dehydrated from all the crying he’s done. He doesn't think he could remember the last time he felt so… diminished. He doesn’t feel like crying now. He’s too tired to do anything.

Dean can’t remember where Sam said he was going to be. He was sure he had stopped listening at that point. He can’t remember where Brag went either. Maybe that was because he wasn't paying attention.

When he had a minute alone, he found himself trudging through the surgery doors. Why? He doesn’t know. He doesn't know anything anymore. He just found himself pulling up a chair next to the hospital bed.

They hadn’t moved Cas yet. The nurses had pulled a white sheet over his face — some kind of act of respect or privacy, or something like that — Dean couldn't stand it. He pulled the sheet back, revealing Cas’ face again… Dean thought he could handle it this time, but he almost choked up at the sight of the former angel just laying there.

Cas would’ve passed as sleeping if it wasn't for his ashen complexion. It still shocked Dean how he looked most at peace when he was dead. Not even in his dreams did he ever look so serene. Maybe that was Dean’s fault. When they were sleeping together, their relationship was less than healthy. You know? Don’t talk about what they were doing and pretend it didn’t matter. But it mattered to Cas. He was the one who tried to talk to him. It was Dean who shut him down every time, it was Dean’s fault that Cas fell asleep looking troubled and unable to relax. All of this is his fault…

Dean reached out his hand and rested it on Castiel’s hair. He could feel his cold scalp under his palm. Stone cold. He drifted his hand down to his cheek and cupped it lightly. Still cold. His other hand reached out for Cas’ hand resting by his sidem and held on to his boney fingers. Still stone cold.

_Oh, it’s so wrong. So wrong, so wrong, so wrong…_

This shouldn't have happened. Cas shouldn’t be dead right now. He shouldn’t be—

“Dean?” Sam’s voice nearly made Dean jump from his seat. It had been so quiet in here. Dean didn’t even notice his brother coming into the room. “The doctors… they called the police. They’re putting an Amber alert out for the baby, right now.”

“Won’t do any good,” Dean muttered.

“I know,” Sam’s voice was thick with his own mix of emotions, and Dean was certain he had just finished crying. Now Dean remembered where he went. Sam said he needed to use the bathroom, but Dean could see the shimmer in his eyes that he had learned from his brother as a way of trying to fight back his tears. Sure enough, Sam was scurrying away and was gone for what must have been half an hour. If Dean glanced over to his brother, he’s certain he will see the red puffy eyes from crying. He didn't need to. He already knew.

“Dean, we need to figure out our next move.”

Dean shook his head. “Not yet, Sam.”

“But we don’t have a lot of time—”

“Sam, please…” Dean sighed. “I just need another minute.”

Sam didn’t argue with his brother and was strangely silent. “I’ll wait in the hallway.”

Dean didn’t answer. Sam didn’t push. He heard the door close behind him and the room was quiet once again.

The hunter hadn’t taken his eyes off Cas the entire time Sam had spoken to him, and he didn’t think he could if he wanted to. He didn’t even realise his hands were still in the former angel’s hair, stroking it between his fingers.

Dean had experienced death enough times over the years. He’s been dead, been brought back, mostly on a Tuesday, but watching Cas now… He wonders if Tessa was the one Cas woke up to. What would Cas be feeling? Would death for angels be similar to a humans? Dean could remember vividly the confusion, the pain, and the weightlessness of not having your physical body. He really hoped Tessa was here. She knew how to comfort Dean when he needed it. Maybe she could do the same for Cas.

But what would Cas be feeling? Confused? Yes. Angry? What if Cas went vengeful spirit on them? Would Dean have to take him out? God, he hoped not. Hasn’t Cas been through enough? Why couldn’t he just have a fucking break! Why couldn’t he just have that? But if Dean was being honest, he knew he was the reason Cas was laying on this slab in the first place. Cas being here was Dean’s fault.

Cas’ death was his fault.

“Oh, Cas…” Dean murmured. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

It may have been uncomfortable at this angle, but Dean rested his head next to Cas’ on the table. He hugged the body closer to him, taking Cas’ hand and bringing it to his lips. He kissed the skin over and over until his lips felt dry and bruised.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry…”

 

* * *

 

Sam was waiting in the hallway for Dean when his older brother stepped out of the surgery. It felt like such a long time since Dean had been in there, and he had cried a fresh batch of tears along the way. He wasn't the only one. When Sam saw him his brother, he got up from the floor where he was sitting and wiped his jeans. Dean didn’t say a word. He looked just as lost for words as Sam feels right now.

“Dean?” Sam whispered. He had to clear his throat from cracking again. “Dean?”

His brother’s response was a gentle shake of his head, his shoulders slump and despondent. “What are we gonna do, Sammy?”

Sam wished he could give his brother an answer that would help, but even in situations like this his brother would pick out a lie, no matter how good the intentions would be. “I don’t know. Dean, I know this hurts, but we need to hunt. I know you don’t want to here that right now, Metatron still has Cas’ baby.”

“Oh, God!” Dean’s eyes widened in horror, and Sam felt appealed for bringing the topic up. He ran his hands over his face, his eyes lighting up in panic, and Sam didn’t know whether the despondent grief or this blind terror was worse than the other. “Sam, how the hell are we gonna get him back from a friggin’ army of angels? We don’t even know how to get to Heaven.”

Oh, crap. Sam didn’t know how to either, but he couldn't let that show. The last thing they needed was a freak out. “Um, okay, we’ll find a way. We always do. We can’t give up on him, Dean. It’s your son, too. Even if you don’t want to acknowledge that, remember that he’s Cas’ son. We owe it to Cas to keep his son safe… Dean? Dean, are you listening to me?”

In the midst of Sam’s ramblings, Dean’s attention was immediately piqued and the look in his eyes went dangerous. Even Sam was a little bit afraid by the ferocity in Dean’s eyes, but when he followed his brother’s glare, he instantly knew why.

Someone was standing at the end of the hallway. He was watching the brothers.

Gadreel.

“You son of a bitch!” Dean roared.

Before Sam could comprehend his next thought, Dean was running after the angel with a new found energy that broke his brother out of his malaise. If Sam wasn’t experiencing his own personal feelings right now, he would be frightened of the evil glare and murderous intention bleeding out of every pore in his body, but right now? Sam was _this close_ to snapping Gadreel’s neck for him.

But why give the angel a quick death when Cas died in agony?

The hilarious thing is that Gadreel didn’t even try to run away. He stood there, proud and still, with a raging hunter charging straight at him, and Dean was not being merciful. He grabbed him by the collar and pushed him roughly against the wall — Gadreel didn’t react much, though. Sam doubted he felt the force behind Dean’s heavy hands, but he didn't resist the hunter’s obvious attempts at trying to scare him. He stayed silent and remained calm when Dean pinned him to the wall with his arm pressing against his throat, or when Dean crowded into his personal space. He didn’t react, and for some reason, that only fuelled Sam’s anger at what was happening in front of him.

It looked like Dean didn’t need much encouragement for his anger. He leaned in close and his blurts out his next few words with so much venom it could poison anyone who was listening in. “If I hear so much as one word coming outta your mouth, me and my brother are gonna skin you alive and feed you to Crowley’s hell hounds.”

That was tempting. Sam found it extremely tempting, but there wasn't much they could do to an angel without — wait…

Sam had completely forgotten about the blade he took from Donna, but he didn’t think he was going to need it. He was so glad he came prepared, even more so when he pulled it out of his deep pants pockets and let the cold blade gleam in the limited fluorescent lights. That was when Gadreel’s eyes finally displayed some emotion that seemed close to fear. _Good_. “Why should they have all the fun? I say we take him back to the Bunker and show him what true torture really feels like.”

With the flick of his wrist, the sharp tip of the angel blade was pressing against the patch of skin free from Dean’s arm. Sam could see the moment Gadreel registered the touch of the blade because his eyes suddenly became wide and terrified, like he should be. His Adam’s apple bopped as he swallowed, Gadreel’s eyes taking in Sam and Dean’s appearance and obvious distress, and he must have guessed what it meant.

“He’s dead, isn't he? I was too late.”

Dean’s only response was to press his arm deeper into Gadreel’s throat. “Don’t pretend to be sorry. This was all your fault. You didn’t do _anything_ to help him.”

“I didn’t know this would happen.”

Dean gave out a humourless laugh. “How could you possibly not have known this was going to happen?”

“It’s the truth. I never would've agreed to Metatron’s terms if I had known. He promised he wouldn't hurt Castiel. He just wanted the baby. That was all. I never would've gotten involved if I knew what I know now.”

“Well, it’s too late for that—” Dean was ready to rip the angel’s throat out with his bare hands if it was possible, even Sam could see he was out for blood, but he couldn’t let him. Not in a hospital. There’s a chance the doctors could save him.

“Wait, Dean, wait,” Sam shushed his brother. He watched the angel carefully as he finally absorbed what he had just said. “Why does Metatron want the baby?”

Gadreel switched his gaze between the two brothers. “Isn’t it obvious?”

“Not to us.”

Gadreel dropped the pretence and he realised. “You don’t know?”

Dean was on a short fuse right now and not impressed by Gadreel’s snarky attitude. “Stop messing us around or I’m gonna snap your neck.”

“I’m sorry. I thought you knew. Castiel was never meant to be a pawn in this. None of this was planned.”

“You’re telling me,” Dean said.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Then tell us what you meant,” Sam demanded.

Gadreel was silent for a moment, ruminating over how to tell them. “He said he was going to leave him alone. When he took Castiel’s grace, he was done with him — that was it. When the angels were cast out of Heaven, many of my brothers and sisters were lost. Many of them had little to no powers, they took random vessels, they didn’t know how to get back. I tried to help where I could, but I couldn’t find a way for them to get home. All I wanted to do was help, but I felt worthless.”

“Boo hoo, skip the sob story. Why does Metatron want my son?” Dean spat out.

“Because he is one of us,” Gadreel explained.

“What?” Dean asked.

“Your son is one of us,” Gadreel repeated with a sigh. When he was met with more blank stares from the brothers, he continued to clarify. “When Metatron took Castiel’s grace, he accidentally left some behind. It wasn't enough to stop him being rendered human, but it lay dormant inside him. It would’ve gone like that for the rest of his life if Castiel hadn’t conceived.”

Dean shook his head, utterly confused. “What are you talking about?”

“The moment that baby came into being, the remaining grace inside Castiel was absorbed by the foetus. Enough for the child to fully manifest into an angel.”

Sam’s eyes immediately looked onto Dean’s face. It was an amalgamation of so many expressions — confusion, shock, maybe horror? Dean was having so much trouble with this he didn't know what to think. “An angel?”

“It was a miracle. A new angel?” Gadreel mused. “We haven’t welcomed a new brother home since the age of Genesis. We couldn’t believe it. It was the ray of hope that we needed. The moment he was conceived, all the angels knew a new brother was going to be born. Even Metatron, and he saw it as an opportunity.”

“An opportunity for what?” Sam asked.

“To create a new leader of Heaven who will take over Metatron’s place when the time comes. He said it was a story in the making of a great leader. An angel born of two humans? No better origin story than that.”

Gadreel said that like it was the most comic idea of them all, and to Sam it was. For a scribe of God, Metatron really is a crappy writer. “So what? Metatron has been hiding in the shadows, waiting to strike?”

“In a way. He convinced a large number of angels to do his bidding and they’ve been watching you ever since.”

“Get the baby and they could come back to Heaven,” Sam guessed.

“Essentially,” Gadreel confirmed. “They’ve been doing everything they can to get back home. Donna was desperate to please him. Metatron assigned me to oversee Castiel’s care, to ensure nothing went wrong. I meant it when I said I didn’t want this to happen. I wanted to make sure he was okay.”

Well, he did a bang-up job. Gadreel might be giving them answers, but he did nothing in helping Dean relax. His guard did not falter once, the whole time, but when the silence dragged on too long Dean dropped his head. Sam could hear him take large inhales, something that was Dean’s way of trying to stay calm when he was close to losing it. The last time Dean had gotten into a state like this he was about to kick a guy to a bloody pulp, it was a miracle he didn't kill him, but if Dean was about to attack Gadreel now… Sam can’t promise that he would do anything to stop it.

After one long exhale that left Dean shaking, he whispered out the next few words that were heartbreaking. “But they let Cas die. Why?”

Gadreel didn’t look like he wanted to talk. Dean’s emotional state was unnerving to Sam, but Gadreel was the source of it. He was damn right afraid of Dean, and he should be. Who knows when he could snap. “There were a few brothers and sister who still blamed Castiel for their downfall. I didn’t realise how many were vying for blood. I let my guard down.”

With a slow calm, Dean lifted his head up and gave Gadreel a lethal glare. “You let your guard down? That’s all you have to say? You let your _guard down?!_ ”

Dean pushed Sam and the blade away from Gadreel, and gripped the angel’s shirt in his fists. Sam could only watch and follow when Dean pulled the angel down the hallway and straight for the surgery doors. Gadreel didn’t even try to fight back or resist. He was an angel, he had the stronger hand physically. They were through the doors, right where Cas’ body was still being held.

It made Sam pause by the door way because this was the first time he had seen Cas like this. He knew Cas was dead. Of course he did, but seeing his body like this sent a shot through his system that made Sam freeze by the doorway. It was an odd reaction for him. He had been around death his whole life, lost more people than he could count, but it never stopped the shock of seeing someone you love laying still and white without a single breath going through their body. For a moment, Sam’s anger was gone for a moment and replaced with an unquenchable sorrow.

The sight of the blade in his hand made him sick. Sam put it back in his pocket. He didn’t want to stomach the violence anymore, but Dean had other ideas.

“ _This—_ “ Dean hissed, poisoning at Cas’ body. “—Is what happens when you let your guard down. _This_ is your fault. If you’re feeling oh so guilty, maybe you should see what it is you have done.”

“Please don’t make me look.”

“You’ve been going on about making sure Cas was okay, keeping him safe — bull! Cas wanted that baby. He changed his mind. What were you going to do if he survived? Rip the kid from his arms? What were you going to do?!”

After being passive the whole time, Gadreel was finally crumbling. He was trying to twist away from Dean’s grasp, looking everywhere but the body of their friend. “Please let go of me.”

“What were you going to do?!” Dean shouted into his ear.

“Dean!” Sam cried out. Dean’s behaviour was finally getting out of hand. Someone definitely must have heard that. “Dean, this isn’t helping.”

“Then what will help? Can he bring Cas back?” Dean demanded. He turned his attention to Gadreel. “Can you?”

“In another time I would, but the fall has limited all our powers. There is nothing I can do besides fly.”

“Cas couldn't even do that!” Dean shouted.

“Dean!” Sam warned.They were getting louder ad louder the longer this went on, and Sam knew they were pushing their luck. Anyone could be walking down the hallway and overhearing them and, just on cue, a nurse popped her head in to find out where the noise was coming from. “Is everything all right, gentleman?”

“Yeah, we’re fine,” Sam intervened, trying to act cool and collected. “We’re fine. It’s just been a… a very bad day. We lost our friend, and…”

“I understand that, sir, but you shouldn't be in this room. I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

“We will,” Sam apologised. “I’m sorry. We are going. Aren’t we?”

Dean gave a curt nod. Gadreel, thankfully, said nothing.

That satisfied the nurse. “Okay, but you must leave now, and if anyone else catches you in here again they will call security.”

“Thank you,” Sam said, turning to his brother and the angel. “Guys, come on.”

Dean shuffled out of the room, Gadreel followed after them (he had too. Dean had not once let him go). They were standing in the hallway, but they couldn't do anything while the nurse was hanging around. They waited until she was gone from around the corner, and the moment she was out of sight, Dean put his hand around Gadreel’s neck and slammed him up against the wall again.

Dean leaned in close, whispering. “I’m not taking anymore bull from you, how do we get the baby back?”

“I don’t know,” Gadreel choked out.

Dean tightened his grip on the angel’s neck. “What did I say about bull?”

“It’s true! It won’t be easy trying to get him back. It was difficult sneaking _out_ of Heaven, and Metatron will be keeping an eye on you two. Getting to Heaven will be impossible.”

That didn’t dissuade Dean. “But it can be done, and you are going to take us there.”

“Wait, Dean?” Sam interrupted. “Is that a good idea? They have an army up there.”

“So?” Dean shrugged.

“An army of angels, one that isn’t going to give up so easily and who easily hate our guts,” Sam reasoned.

“We’ve met with worse.”

“No we haven’t!” Sam argued. “Dean, I want my nephew back too, but we have to think of a plan here. We can’t just go in half-cocked and ready to punch the walls out. We’ll be dead before we make it to the pearly gates.”

“Then what’s your plan, Sammy? Go and ask Metatron if we can have visitation? File a custody suite? I don’t think the family court system has jurisdiction in Heaven.”

“Hey, I am trying to help here. You might get yourself killed if in the process—”

They were cut off by the sound of someone clearing their throat from not too far away. They all turned their heads to the source and it was the same nurse as before. She was holding a clipboard, standing their nervous, looking like she didn’t know when to intervene or whether she should come back later. “Is this a bad time?”

“No,” both Dean and Sam said at the same time.

The nurse didn’t seem too convinced, but she continued anyway. “I don’t want to intrude. I know you’ve just lost someone, but there are some issues that I need to clear up straight away before we proceed.”

“Uh, yeah,” Sam said. “Yeah, you can talk to me, um… what issues?”

“I can give you a minute if you—”

“No, no— it’s fine. I’ll take care of this.” Sam offered. The nurse nodded and made her way back to reception. Once they were alone, Sam turned to his brother. “We’ll talk about this when I get back. We need to think of a plan. A good one.”

He was met with silence from his brother, and when Sam was about to head to reception, he heard his brother’s voice break the silence. “Sam?”

Sam turned to look at Dean and was instantly engulfed by his brother’s bear hugs. He pulled Sam down until he had his face pressed into his shoulder. He must admit, the hug was sudden, but after the day they’ve had? Sam was not complaining. He wrapped his arms around Dean, dropping his face between where neck meets shoulder. Sam took a deep breath to try and steady himself. It felt good. It was soothing. Just what he needed.

It was Dean who pulled away first. He went over to Gadreel’s side and grabbed his arm. Probably to make sure he wouldn't change his mind and run. “I’ll keep an eye out when you’re gone.”

“I’ll be back soon.”

He was met with a curt nod. Sam didn't think much of it and went straight to reception.

 

* * *

 

Reception wasn't too far away. Just a quick trip down the stairs and he was in the main waiting area. The nurse was waiting by one of the computers and she clocked Sam straight away.

“Hi,” Sam offered. The nurse smiled back at him, and grabbed her clipboard. “Is there a problem with the insurance?”

“No, it’s not an insurance issue. I just flagged up an error on the file. It says here that the patient’s OB/GYN was a Dr. Gadreel? Only, we can’t find a record of him ever being a licensed physician.”

_Now you tell us…_

Sam cleared his throat and tried to act like he didn’t know what was wrong. “Um, must have written his name wrong or something.”

“Okay,” the nurse nodded. “Also, I noticed that the section for your ER doctor was left blank. Do you know who it was?”

“Yeah, we met him before in this hospital. It’s Dr. Brag.”

The nurse looked up with a raised eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“We came in a few months ago for an emergency. He helped us back in…”

Sam’s hand went into his pocket to grab his phone to check when it was they had to rush Cas to the ER. He made it his mission to schedule everything onto his Calendars app, just to make things easier when it came to finding stuff, and—

Wait.

Sam patted his jeans pockets again. His phone was in one, but the other was empty.

The blade’s gone.

What the fuck?

How did that—

The hug.

_Dean._

Sam was running back up stairs before he could excuse himself to the nurse. He bolted up the stairs, back to the hallway they were standing in and—

There was no one there. There was no sign of life, or that anyone had been here in awhile. Sam’s heart was racing against his rib cage, looking around the empty space and not finding anything that could settle him.

Dean was gone. So was Gadreel.

This doesn’t make sense. There was no way Dean could get to Heaven. It was impossible for him to—

Wait. Gadreel said he can still fly.

Meaning he must have flown down here.

Which means he can fly back to Heaven—

Shit!

This is bad. Dean just walked into a a battle field with blood thirsty angels with his only defence being a letter opener. He didn’t stand a chance.

What if it was a trap? Gadreel just came out of nowhere and suddenly offered all this information? Fuck! Sam didn’t even suspect. It didn’t even cross his mind, his head is all over the place, and now Dean might be dead for all he knew.

First he lost Cas, then his nephew and now he lost his brother?

This can’t be happening.

Sam’s eyes began to well up. He couldn’t help it and he was sick of fighting the urge to cry.

“Dean!” Sam cried out to the heavens, but no one was listening.

Dean was gone, and Sam was pretty sure he had just lost his entire family.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was so friggin' hard to write!
> 
> I'm sorry if it feels disjointed or somewhat, but I've struggled with this one. It's been a difficult time for me so please don't be too brutal with me in the comments.
> 
> There might be a lot of spelling and grammar mistakes, but... eh. I have read this over yet. I'll do it on another date when I'm not so tired, bit my autocorrect has a tendency to change Metatron to Mutation and Gadreel to Gadders. What is up with my autocorrect?
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoy.

After all of his experience with angels and demons, Dean made a note for him to never go to the fucking light. He had no choice now. It was the only way he was getting to Heaven.

The second the light was gone, Dean found himself in a corridor that instantly made him feel… he couldn't explain it. The room felt sterile. It was pure white, even the slightest speck of dust could leave a mark on the walls. It didn’t feel right. He didn’t want to be here, he was already itching to leave, but Dean pushed that to the back of his mind. There was no way in hell he was leaving until he got what he came for.

Gadreel didn't make an attempt to try and escape Dean’s hold around his neck. Maybe it was because of the blade he had digging into his neck. There was a small stream of blood trailing over his fingers from where he was holding the blade. Gadreel would wince in pain when Dean would inadvertently apply too much pressure, but he didn’t care about that.

“Shut up,” Dean hissed to Gadreel. The damn angel was making too much noise. They needed to be quiet if this was to work. “Just show me where to go.”

“How am I suppose to do that if I am meant to ‘shut up’?”

“Figure it out,” Dean seethed. “Come on. Where do we need to go?”

“Just follow me,” Gadreel said.

Nothing else was said after that. Gadreel did his best to guide Dean through the winding halls that all looked alike, trying to find wherever the hell they were going. Dean didn’t like putting his trust into the damn angel, but he would be wasting his time trying to find what he was looking for. This place is a damn maze. How angels find their way around is a mystery to Dean, but Gadreel seemed to be walking around like he knew this place like the back of his hand.

When they turned the corner Gadreel froze. He tried to push Dean back and to go the other way, but Dean wouldn’t budge. “What is it”

“We turned the wrong way. Let’s leave.”

“No, no,” Dean pushed. He followed Gadreel’s line of sight — there was door not too far away and the sight of it had Gadreel tensing. It made Dean on high alert and anxious. “What’s going on? What’s down there?”

“It’s nothing. We must move,” Gadreel urged, but it just made Dean more curious. He pulled at Gadreel’s collar and pulled him down the hall and towards the door. “No, don’t go in there!”

“Why?” Dean hissed. “What’s in there? What is it?”

Gadreel didn’t have the chance to say anything. Dean was not Mr. Patience right now, and he opened the door without a second thought. What he saw made him regret his actions instantly.

The angels didn’t even bother to clean up after themselves. The floor was streaked with Cas’ blood that were shaped in bootprints and heel marks, and the tools they used had scattered all over the tiled floor. The chair had been left untouched. The restraints hung heavy from the arm rests, dried up towels of crusted blood and paper thrown around the room.

The sight of it made Dean sick. The images of his vision flashed into his head again of Cas screaming and in pain…

It would’ve been a damn miracle if Cas had survived all of this. Actually, now Dean thought of it when he could see the crime scene, it was another miracle that he made it to the hospital.

It must have been another minute of Dean staring at the room before he grabbed onto the handle and slowly pulled the door closed. It clicked when the room was shut off, but Dean didn’t make another move down the hallway. He was stunned silent, and his eyes were threatening to sting against the bright lights.

“I told you not to go in there.”

 _Shut up, Gadreel!_ Dean wanted to shout at him, but it had gotten him back to the present. He blinked back the sting in his eyes and grabbed onto Gadreel again. “Let’s go.”

Gadreel didn't say another word after that. He let Dean push him around like a bloody puppet the whole time, but he was wise to make sure he didn’t aggravate Dean even further. His eyes were dark, almost as if he was ready to murder anyone that came in his way. It looked more like the face of the hunter he had hear so much about than the Dean Winchester his brother was willing to sacrifice his grace for, but this man here? He was more haunted from the sight of the room than he was willing to show.

After what felt like the seventeenth hallway they’ve wandered through, Gadreel finally stopped at a door that felt different from the others. The closer they approached it, the more the feeling in the pit of Dean’s stomach began to unsettle him because he can hear voices drifting from it. He tiptoed close to the door, keeping his steps quiet. The voices became clear, more distinct and Dean was certain there were some he instantly recognised.

“Isn’t he just wonderful?” a voice bragged with so much pride and devotion it had Dean’s skin crawling. He knew exactly who it was.

Metatron.

From the voices alone, Dean could identify three other angels standing around, but that couldn't be relied upon. If Metatron was talking out loud then that means he has an audience out there and it must be a big one, because he kept on talking.

“Of all my years on Earth, I’ve seen and read about human’s responses to seeing infants,” Metatron announced with a meaningful tone, or as meaningful as that backstabber could get. “Mothers and Fathers, they’re always gushing about how beautiful their children are and giving praise when they do something so banal and pointless. It’s so undeserved. Many of the children they gush about are some of the ugliest babies I have ever seen and the most stupid. I never understood it. But this little guy… he is truly magnificent.”

He was answered by a rumble of agreements.

“You were all there when he was born, you saw how brightly he shines. I haven't seen anything like that since God was in our presence,” Metatron mused, and it was getting on Dean’s nerves. “Our brother did an amazing job with this one. I have never seen a grace shine as bright as his. The moment he came into existence, we all knew he was going to be amazing. When have you ever seen something so spectacular? Something so… pure and light and everything that has been missing from Heaven. The child of a fallen angel and the Righteous Man. Welcome home.”

“But what of the Winchesters? Won’t they be trying to come after him?”

“They can try, although I don’t know how. They’ll never be able to get up here. There’s no way for a human to enter Heaven when they’re still alive.”

 _Not if you have an angel on your side_ , Dean thought to himself. Gadreel was still thankfully quiet by his side. He didn't need to make sure he would keep his trap shut. Dean went for the gun he had hidden in the back of his jeans. He had to let go of Gadreel for this. The gun won’t kill them but it might distract them for a bit. It’s the blade that will do the most damage. One stab in the neck and Metatron will be toast on the ground. Dean was ready. He inched closer to the door, the blade ready and just as he was about to pounce, the angel said something else that made the hunter freeze on the spot.

“Unless Gadreel has defied me like I thought he would,” Metatron suddenly announced.

_What? What does he mean—_

_Oh crap._

Dean turned to to face Gadreel slowly. The angel was watching him carefully, the conflict in his eyes brewing up a storm at the realisation of what he has just done. Brought Dean into a trap without even trying. “Forgive me, Dean Winchester.”

_That bastard…_

Dean didn't stop them when the angels came to collect him. There was a large group of them, Dean didn’t stand a chance. They were grabbing his arms, restraining him, and Dean didn’t fight them. They took his gun, they snatched the blade out of his hand, and when Dean was knocked out by one of the angels, he let the dark overcome him.

 

* * *

 

The first thing Dean heard was a low muttering. It was all around him, Dean couldn’t identify one voice from the other. His head was throbbing where he was hit earlier, it pumped around his skull like a heartbeat, but Dean tried to ignore it as much as he could. The muffled voices grew louder, clearer, and Dean took the chance and opened his eyes against the light.

And he wished he had kept them closed because the first thing he saw was the smarmy smile of Metatron. “Hello, Dean. It’s been awhile since the last time we met. I wasn't expecting you up here, but I believe today is the time for new possibilities.”

Dean groaned. Even if he didn’t have a headache, he’s pretty sure Metatron would be giving him one. “Oh, just kill me now…”

“Be careful what you say here,” Metatron warned. “I’m afraid some of the angels here might take you up on that offer.”

Dean didn’t have any idea what the scribe meant by that. He opened his eyes, blinking back the sting and blurriness of his vision and suddenly he realised Metatron had a point. There was an army of angels around him, many off them were glaring straight at him with more intention to commit murder than any of the monsters Dean had ever seen. If Dean was any other person, he would be feeling fear that could break his bones, but the hunter couldn't bring himself to care. If his bones did break, he wasn't sure he could feel it. He just didn’t think he could care anymore.

That was until his eyes landed on a moses basket in the far end of the room.

It was sitting there idly by. It seemed weird to be having it in this room, with so much anger and hostility emanating from every crevice, but to have this… Dean was so close to him now. If he took a few steps he—

When Dean tried to lift his arm up, but his limbs were forced down by hard metal, and it was then that Dean realised where he was. He was retrained against another chair, like the one in the medical room stained with Cas’ blood. His feet, his wrists, he was completely bound. Dean knew it was pointless to try and fight them. Even Cas couldn’t get past them. The hunter didn’t stand a chance.

Dean fell back into the chair, staring up at the ceiling that made his eyes want to bleed. This damn room was too bright. He tried one last time to pull at the restraints, but he gave up when his wrists began to bruise under them.

There were suddenly two angels near him — nurses. Dean recognised them. They were the nurses in his vision. They were standing by the bassinet and guarding him from the threat they saw in Dean, and that made his blood boil, but he was too tired to get angry to lash out. In that moment, Dean was exhausted in more ways than one, and he didn’t have it in him to fight anymore. Is this what a man with nothing left to lose feels like? Dean’s pretty sure that is what he feels like right now.

“Give me my son, Metatron.”

Metatron shook his head. “I can’t do that, Dean?”

Dean wasn't too surprised by that response. It was worth a shot. “You know, I’ve always thought you were a crook, but I never thought you would stoop so low as to resort to kidnapping.”

“Kidnapping?” Metatron exclaimed. He seemed genuinely offended by that insinuation. “ I would never — Dean, I haven't done anything wrong here.”

Dean just stared at the scribe like he had grown two fucking heads. “You stole—”

Before Dean could say another word, a hand was slapped over his mouth and Dean was silenced. He couldn’t get a word in edgeways even if he tried. “Dean, you should remember you are on my turf now. I’m not finished speaking, and I detest the accusations you have made. I didn’t steal this precious child. He belongs here.”

“Metatron, if you don’t give me my son now, I swear to God I will grab my gun and shoot you in the face.”

Metatron’s eyes landed on the metal restraint on Dean’s wrists. “I’d like to see you try.”

“If you are going to keep me locked up on this chair then why am I here? Is this your chance to gloat? Tell me your diabolic plan to take over the world like they do in James Bond?”

“Oh, no. I just want to talk to you and make you understand.”

“Understand what?” Dean asked.

“Why I did this.”

Dean was silent at that. He didn’t want Metatron to explain himself, like some psychopath who puts all the blame on everyone else than admit it was all his fault, but it’s not like Dean had a choice in the matter. He was stuck in a chair after all. There were angels around him. It was safe to say he wasn't going anywhere.

Metatron took the silence as his cue to continue. He looked over to the nurses by the bassinet. Nothing was said between them, but they knew what he wanted them to do. One of the nurses picked up the baby from his crib. She settled hi against her shoulder. Dean couldn't see his face, he was too swaddled up in his blankets for him to get a glimpse, but he didn’t like the change in position. He whined against the nurses mechanical hold. It had Dean fidgeting in his restraints. He wanted to comfort him, but he had no choice but to watch them walk out of the room. He strained his neck as far as he could as he watched them walk out the door. It closed to a click behind him, but that didn't stop Dean from staring at the door. He couldn't help it. He couldn't take his eyes off it.

The silence was too overbearing for Dean to put up with, so he finally broke it. “So what was your plan? Play the waiting game? What were you waiting for?”

Metatron gave the hunter a bemused smile. “I don’t know how much Gadreel has told you, but I’m sure he must have exaggerated somewhere. He never struck me as the type to illustrate a dramatic scene well. He just gets to the point, no dilly-dally.”

 _What the fuck is this guy talking about?_ Dean thought. “Where is Gadreel, anyway?”

That must have been the wrong question to ask because a dark look crossed the scribe’s eyes and he turned to look at his legion of angels. “Gadreel has been… ‘taken care’ of.” Dean didn’t need to be told what Metatron meant by that. He could see the shimmering blade laying idly on the table across the room with the slight residue at the tip that was not there before. It made Dean gulp. “But I want you to know, Dean, I didn’t plan for any of this.”

“Gadreel might have mentioned that. What did you plan for?”

“Nothing,” Metatron replied with defiance. “I’m not as bad as you think, Dean. I told Castiel when I took his grace. I wanted him to have a normal life, I didn’t have a second agenda to this. What happened was…” Metatron paused, trying to think of the right word. “…unexpected.”

“I hope you don’t take offence if I don’t believe you,” Dean snapped.

“That’s your prerogative, but that I know the truth.”

Dean sighed. This conversation was going nowhere if they were going to keep talking like this, and Metatron seemed like the type to speak nonsense for as long as he could. “Why did you do this? Just tell me why you did this to Cas, why did you change him in the first place.”

“Oh, Dean, I told you I didn’t plan this,” Metatron announced. He leaned a hand next to the head rest on Dean’s chair and leaned against it. It pushed Dean even further back, but he would rather have that than the angel’s hand resting so close to his face. The scribe didn’t notice Dean’s attempts to try and shift away and sprouted out into a long monologue. “All I wanted was to be left alone in Heaven. I hd been away for so long, retreated into myself with my books, but I missed my home. I missed the angels, God, and everything that I used to have. But when I came back…”

Metatron glanced over at the crowds of angels, and Dean didn’t miss how many of them dropped their gazes down to the floor in guilt. “I didn’t like what my brothers and sister had become, but Castiel? I liked him. Everything he did was for the greater good, for you and everyone on this forsaken planet. I felt… I liked him. I do, so I wanted him to know that I only wished for him to have a normal life. I even fixed his vessel’s infertility issues so that he could have his own family. I didn’t want him to be involved in this mess, but Fate wasn’t finished with Castiel.”

There was something in Metatron’s voice that made Dean think back to when the hunter had Gadreel pushed up against the wall in the hospital. He had this wonder and awe in his eyes when talking about the baby, the same wonder and awe Metatron is speaking with.It wasn't much of a leap for Dean to make. “So what Gadreel told me was true? About the remaining grace?”

Metatron nodded. “We couldn’t believe it when it happened. Every angel in the world felt it. When we discovered he was conceived from a union between you and Castiel, it was like the answer to our prayers. Just when we had given up hope, a miracle came to us. Once that had happened, I called up as many of the best angels I could to help me find him and bring him to Heaven. How could we leave him on Earth when he has such potential? It was the best decision for him.”

Dean couldn't stop the rising anger begin to shimmer underneath his skin. It was a good thing he was restrained because he desperately wanted to punch Metatron right in the jaw and make him bleed. “But what about Cas? Doesn’t he have a chance to decide? You do remember that it’s his kid you ripped from his womb? I would say arms, but you never gave Cas the chance to hold him.”

For a moment, Dean was certain he saw a hint of discomfort in Metatron’s eyes, but he couldn't be sure. He might've been projecting, or he was too angry to see clearly. “I do wish our course of action had been different, but what could we do? Castiel had changed his mind. He had become … let’s say he was blind from his feelings. If he had stuck with his original decision to give up the baby, none of this would've happened. I know he must be hurting right now, but all of this could've been avoided. But I am confident that, over time, Castiel will accept the truth and he will be proud of what his son has become—”

“Cas is dead,” Dean said flatly.

For the first time since Dean had gotten here, Metatron was silent. He stared at Dean with wide and confused eyes, like he couldn't believe what Dean was saying. “How?”

“The labour killed him. He bled to death.”

To Dean’s surprise, the scribe actually seemed to be affected by the new of Cas’ death because he didn’t say anything for a good minute and he had to hold on to the chair for a moment to compose himself. “This is sad news.”

“Don’t pretend to be sorry. You and your so-called brothers and sisters are the reason he’s dead,” Dean spat.

“I truly am sorry, Dean Winchester. I didn’t want him dead. If there was something I could do than I would help.”

“Simple. Just give me the baby and I’ll be on my way.”

“Anything but that.”

It was worth a try, but damn it. Dean has had enough of this. “Fuck you! Damn you to hell, Metatron! You keep saying this was for the best and everything, but I know you had this planned. Why else would you do this? Why would you change Cas in the first place if you didn’t want this to happen?”

Metatron gave Dean a strange look until the corners of his eyes turned upwards in a creepy smile. “You don’t get it, do you?”

“Get what?!” Dean shouted.

Metatron raised his eyebrows in surprised and then he sighed. He was going to have to explain. “Castiel always had a soft spot for you. All of us could see it. Even the humans could sense something. Everyone except you, that is. I thought, as a sign of good will to my brother when I took his grace, to make him more… appealing to you.”

Dean didn’t know what to think about that. He was still confused. “What?”

“Isn’t it obvious? He liked you. A lot. After everything he has done for you and you still couldn’t see it? Wow, you are dumb, but I could detect a level of reciprocation coming from your end. You seemed to have a greater relationship with him than your previous attempts at domesticity with your female counterparts, so I thought I would make things easier for you.”

Nope, Dean was still confused. “Easier for me? What are you talking about?”

“You’re joking, right?” Metatron asked. When Dean gave him a blank look, Metatron sighed loudly in exasperation. “How on Earth did you stop the Apocalypse? Fine! I’ll tell you. I changed Castiel’s vessel so that you and he could finally do something about your angsty crush for each other. Now do you understand?”

Metatron was talking to Dean like he was a toddler. He slowed down his pace and exaggerated his words, to Dean’s annoyance, but he was more angry than anything else. Not because of Metatron’s treatment of him, but on for what he did to his angel. “You had no right to do that. Cas wouldn't have wanted to be changed like that.”

“Dean, he didn’t care. None of the angels care about what vessel they take as long as they can hold them. We don’t have a gender preference. Castiel never had a preference, he even took a female vessel a few times in the past. The only species that care about gender is you humans, which is very confusing.”

“Confusing?” Dean asked.

“Yes. We haven't been idle these past few months. We’ve been keeping an eye on you. We care about Castiel, we wanted to make sure he was okay, but what we saw between you and him was… shocking. Castiel may have had difficulty adjusting to humanity, but you were more caught up in his vessel than anything else. You made him so unhappy for such a long time.”

Suddenly, the anger was gone from Dean and it was replaced with his usual soul crushing guilt. “I know I did.”

“Thank you for not trying to lie. What I don’t understand is why you were so distant from him? All I did was change his vessel. It’s still Castiel in there. Why did you distance yourself from him?”

“I can’t answer that.”

“Maybe you can’t, but I have my own theories. Number one: Maybe you are nothing more than a shallow human with rigid ideas of gender and sexuality. That’s the obvious one. Number two: maybe I was wrong and you weren’t as romantically interested in Castiel as I thought you were. I find that one highly unlikely. But with number three, I think that is the big one.”

“Which is?” Dean asked.

“Theory number three: you do care about Castiel, but you don’t care for the kid.”

Dean raised his eyebrows. “Excuse me?”

“It’s simple. You are only here for revenge. You're not here to retrieve your son. I bet that isn't even part of your motivation for coming here. It’s not in your nature to care, not after the way I have seen you been acting the last few months. Why would you suddenly care now?”

Dean glared at the scribe with immediate suspicion. “Are you trying to trick me? Is this some kind of tactic to confuse me and get me off track?”

Now it was Metatrons turn to look miffed. “You watch way too many spy movies. No, it’s not, but have you asked yourself why you came here? Can you tell me why?

In retaliation, Dean decided to speak in a slow tone like Metatron was the idiot in this conversation. “Are you deaf?”

“No, but I am confused. But I think I am starting to understand something. You do care for Castiel, but not for the kid. Because my theory, you see, revolves around Castiel. You wanted him, you desired him, but he confused you. When you couldn't handle it, you tried to step away, but it you couldn’t stop yourself. You eventually ended up playing with his feelings, making him feel worthless and less of what he was. Then things got even more complicated when Castiel conceived his precious cherub, and that made things worse.”

“You listen here—”

Before Dean could finish, a hand was forced over his mouth and Dean’s ability to speak was gone. Metatron must have been doing something else to him because his tongue couldn't form words, not even to let out muffed cries or anything. He was voiceless. “I told you before. This is my turf and I will speak. You will want to listen to what I have to say. Understand?”

Of course Dean couldn't answer Metatron’s question. Instead, he gave him the most murderous glare he could muster.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Metatron shrugged. “And I will continue. I don’t doubt your feelings for him, Dean, I don’t. You may have been confused, but you two have always had a ‘special bond’. It’s not surprising that you two have found yourself in this situation. I know you didn’t plan for this. I can see that, so I am going to help you. I am not the enemy here. In fact, I am offering you a way out, if you agree to it, that is.”

Metatron leaned in close to Dean and to make sure he was looking the hunter straight in the eye. When Dean glanced over at the scribe reluctantly, he was surprised b the genuine feelings he saw in his eyes. It caught Dean off-guard. He wonders if he did that on purpose, but the next thing he said had Dean staring up at him in disbelief. “I’m going to let you go. You can return to your brother, mourn Castiel, and go back to the life you and your brother had before it all got complicated. You can go back to fornicating with random women and having a care free life. I am letting you off the hook. My only condition? You give your son up for good.”

Absolutely not, Dean thought. He began to shake his head from Metatron’s hold on his mouth, but the scribe didn’t seem surprised by his reaction. He was probably expecting it.

“Let me ex— let me explain,” Metatron said firmly. “This is a once in a lifetime opportunity. You can go back to Sam and tell him you tried everything in your power to bring him back but you ultimately failed. He will be devastated, but he will take comfort in the fact that you tried. He might try and attempt to go after his nephew himself, but they would always end in failure. Then one day he will give up. Stop try to save him, and he will move on with the rest of his life, and you can try and help him forget. But… you will be glad every time he fails. Do you know why? Because I know the truth to why you ran out on the first place.”

Okay, not Dean was really confused by what Metatron was saying, but he was still curious. He waited for the scribe to continue because for some reason his answer interested him, but alway scared him as well.

“It’s because you don’t want to be a father again.”

All of the curiosity evaporated from Dean’s system and replaced with that ice cold fear.

“I mean, that’s what it is, right?” Metatron asked and seemingly pleased with Dean’s obvious distress. “You’re letting everyone believe that you're distant to avoid the pain of losing another family member, you might have had Castiel fooled, but you haven’t fooled me. I can see right through you and every lie you have told. You’re hiding behind the mask of fear, but the truth is you never wanted that baby. You never did. It’s understandable. I’ve had a glimpse of your childhood. You raised Sam from when he was a baby in place of your absent dad, and you were only four years old. No one can understand just how quickly you had to grow up, and you never had your childhood back. It’s all understandable. And when you discovered you were going to become a father, those bleak memories of late night feeds and diaper changes all came flooding back. You weren't ready to step into your father’s shoes then, and you don’t want to do it now.”

Dean couldn’t handle the scribe’s constant stare and analytical judgement. He tried to turn his head to the side, but he couldn't hide the tear that fell from his cheek.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” Metatron asked. Dean didn’t say anything. It was an answer in its self. “Even if it wasn’t, it doesn't matter. Even if you did want your child, what future could you promise our brother? Bowhunting at three years old? Shooting at four? Knife throwing at five? You want to give him the childhood you had? That’s not fair, and you need to remember. He’s not human. He’s an angel. He belongs with other angels, just like Castiel belongs with other angels. He doesn't fit in with your life, he doesn't fit in with your species. Didn’t you learn that from Castiel? Didn’t his suffering mean anything to you? Think about it. Was Castiel happy with you on that planet as a human?”

No.

No, he wasn’t.

 _I gave up everything for you,_ Cas’ voice echoed in the back of Dean’s mind. He remembers it distinctly. The forced talk in the kitchen when everything was put on the table. It’s haunted him more than he was willing to let on. _I have lost everything. My home, my family, my grace and everything that I have believed in. I did it because I thought you were worth it all. But what have you done for me, Dean? What have I gained?_

Nothing.

All he got was endless heartache and a lousy friend. Dean saw how much Cas was hankering after his home. His son won't even have Cas to tell him about Heaven and all of the other angels, his brothers and sisters, to keep his imagination alive. All he had was Dean, and Dean was not much to offer in a long run.

“Admit the truth, Dean. He belongs with us. You may be his father, but we are his true family. Angels belong with angels, humans with other humans. You should’ve left Castiel alone. He never belonged with the likes of you. Don’t force our brother down the same path you forced his mother. Be a good parent and do this for him. Let him go.”

_Let him go?_

_How?_

Dean wasn’t sure what to do because he was on the fence. What Metatron siad to him made sense and, in a crushing realisation of guilt, Castiel was better off not knowing him. He should've had a life in Heaven with every other angel in Heaven.

But so does their baby. Their baby is an angel. He will feel exactly like Cas did on this planet. He will grow up as an outcast. He will never fit in, never understand the world like the other humans do when all he wants is to fly up to the clouds.

And is that where he belongs? In the clouds? In Heaven?

Maybe he does, nut despite how much of what Metatron had told him made sense, Dean already knew his answer the moment he made his offer.

The reason for it? Dean could still hear Cas’ screams for his son as he was being taken away from him. No matter how much all that information might have been right, this was the only source he needed to make a decision.

Call him stupid, call him selfish — Dean doesn't care. He is making up for it now, even if it was too late to save Cas.

When Metatron removed his hand, Dean leaned in and gave the scribe his answer.

“Give me my son, or I won’t stop until I have all of your heads on a spike.”

Metatron sighed in disappointment. “Then I am sorry, Dean Winchester. I can’t let you leave this room alive. I won’t let you. Brothers and sister? He’s all yours.”

The Metatron lifted his gaze up to the other angels in the room. The had been so quiet, just watching the scribe and the hunter talk the whole time, but they began to come alive under Metatron’s steel stare. The ones standing the closest, Dean knew what they had in mind. The guy in the suit was beginning to click his fists. The sound of it made Dean flinch, but he didn’t miss the woman in the cafeteria gown pulling out a sharp knife from her apron pocket and seeing it ready in her hand.

So, this is it. Dean knew there was no way in hell he was going to be able to get out of this. He tried. His wrists were bloody from yanking them against the metal clasps, he could try some more but it would be useless and pointless. There was no way in hell he was getting out of here alive.

Dean had been on this road before. He had been dead more times than he could count, and every single time, he was terrified, but now? He doesn't know what he is feeling.

He wasn’t scared. It was highly unlikely Dean would come back this time, he’s had too many second chances for there to be a third. Dean was a dead man walking and he has known that for a long time. As much as Dean was grateful to be alive, he knew he should've stayed dead. What’s dead should say dead, remember? That applies to him, too. If he had stayed dead the first time they wouldn't be in this mess. He wouldn't have broken Heaven, he wouldn't have ruined Sam’s life. Heck, Sam could've had that apple pie life he drunkenly told Dean when he was plastered, but he couldn't keep out of Sam’s life. Sam would’ve been happy, and… so would Cas.

Cas would be alive right now. There’s no denying that. Metatron was right, he ruined Cas’ life. Cas was content before he met Dean and ever since he pulled him out of Hell Cas has been in his own Hell on Earth. Literally.

So this was it. The final curtain. And the only thing Dean wants right now is for it to go as quickly as possible.

_Sam, Cas, mom and dad, my little boy… I’m so sorry._

Dean took a deep breath and leaned into the chair for the inevitable.

_Close your eyes._

The voice… it was so clear, so perfect that there was no way Dean didn’t hear it. He looked around the room to find out where it came from but he couldn't figure out where. “Who said that?” Dean asked.

“Who said what?” Metatron asked. He was looking around the room, at the other angels but they were just as confused as he was. “What are you talking about?”

_I said close your eyes, Dean._

There it was again! Dean was watching the room then, no one had said anything. “Who is that?”

“Who is what— who are you talking too?”

Dean doesn't understand. That voice came from nowhere. How is that possible, and where had he heard that voice before—

The voice sighed audibly for a long moment and spoke again. _Stop being a dumb-ass, Winchester, and close your damn eyes._

“Who are you?”

_Don’t make me repeat myself. I’m trying to help, but I need you to close your damn eyes._

Dean doesn't know why he did it, but did he have a choice? The last thing he saw was Metatron’s perplexed stare because Dean closed his eyes, as tight as he could and waited for the voice to speak again.

_Good. Now keep them closed until it’s over._

_Until what’s over?_ Dean thought.

_You’ll see._

Dean didn’t even have a moment to think about the fact that the voice just heard his thoughts. The minute the voice stopped speaking (where the hell has he heard that voice) there was a blinding light radiating from the room. It was so bright, Dean struggled against the urge to open his eyes and see what was happening, but he knew he shouldn’t. He couldn’t, and by how bright the light was, it would be a bad idea to look.

But then the noise rang loud. It was hurting his eardrums, but it was still manageable. Dean could still hear things, even slightly and muffled, but he was certain he could hear Metatron’s voice.

“It’s you,” the scribe whispered (it probably wasn't a whisper, but it was so loud in this room it sounded like one). His voice was full of wonder and shock it even had Dean surprised. “I can’t believe it, I thought… how? Everyone believed you were de— what?”

There was silence for awhile. It was knowing at Dean, he wanted to open his eyes and look, but he fought it as much as he could. From what Dean could guess, it seemed to be an angel conversation because Metatron kept replying to the silences, but Dean had no idea what the other voice was saying. All he had was Metatron’s side to create a clear picture.

“No, no, wait. I can explain—” Metatron began to beg, but he was cut off. There was another long silence, but whatever the voice said had Metatron begging in fear. “No, you must understand why I had to — no! No, you can’t, you can’t do this to me. I only did what I had to do for the sake of Heaven — wh-what are you going to do to us?”

The silence was back again, but longer than the other ones. For some reason, this felt final and judgmental, but Dean doesn't know what it happening. He can’t see anything. All he can do is lessen and guess, but even that was becoming difficult. The white noise was growing louder, and Dean was certain he could feel the ground quaking underneath where he was bound, and Dean had to clench his eyes shut to make sure he wouldn't open them, but he was pretty sure his ears were going to bleed.

“No…” Metatron whispered (or shouted? Dean could barely hear), but the next thing he heard was unmistakable. It was the scribe shrieking in absolute terror. “NO!!”

And then the rest of Metatron’s garrison followed their leader in their screams. They were the most bloodcurdling screams Dean had ever heard, even the ones he had heard in Hell didn’t compare. It seemed to go on forever. If the white noise didn’t make his ears bleed before, the certainly did now. It was screeching, peeling and vibrating through his skin, and Dean tried to push past the pain by focusing all his efforts on not opening his damn eyes because if he did he would be up in smoke.

Dean could feel the light was scorching. It burned across his face, he felt like he was being burned up in the process, but the wasn't in the same amount of pain as the angels were. It just felt like he was getting a terrible sunburn over his features, not being burned alive like everyone else seemed to be. He didn’t know how much more he could take, Dean’s skin was bubbling by the second, and then…

Then it… stopped.

It could’ve been seconds, it could've been hours, but the screaming finally stopped. It faded away into silence. There was not a sound, you could even hear a pin drop, but there was nothing. Not even from the voice he heard. It was absolute stillness. Dean didn’t like it.

 _Is it over? Is this the over?_ Dean wondered.

After the seconds ticked by, Dean couldn't take it anymore. Even if it was a bad idea, Dean fluttered his eyes opened. His sight was like a melted film reel. All he could see was black splotches, he couldn't see past that so he had to close his eyes again and let them adjust. They stung, but Dean opened his eyes again, blinking rapidly until he could finally see something.

And he wanted to vomit the moment his vision cleared.

It was almost like a fire had taken over the building and left everything singed and incinerated. The walls were streaked with black ash and scalded furniture. There was nothing that was free from its carnage, but that wasn't what made Dean feel sick. It was the bodies.

It was just like Donna. Their vessels were still intact but their eyes… they were cooked out of their sockets. It was like Pamela, but none of the other angels made it out alive. They were laying on the floor motionless. There was still smoke drifting up from where their eyes used to be, the smell of charred flesh was think and heavy in the air, and all Dean wanted to do was throw up in the corner.

Dean’s eyes danced over the bodies until his eyes landed on one he thought he recognised, and he flinched when he made the connection. It was Metatron. He received the worst of it all because his whole face was burned. The only reason he could recognise him is because of the clothing. His face was gone. It would’ve been reminiscent of Freddie Krueger if Metatron still had his facial features. He just looked like a melted waxwork.

Dean’’s eyes wandered over the room one last time and he just sat there in his chair, his brain not knowing what to do.

_…What the hell just happened?_

The first thing Dean realised when he came back into clarity was the pain in his wrists. When he looked down, the metal restraints had fucking melted over his arms until they were super hot sludge over his skin. When Dean pulled against them, his bound wrists were free. He wiped away the sludge and his skin was red from the heat. He wasn't sure if it hurt. His head was too foggy to think properly yet, and —

The next thing Dean realised was a low muffled sound coming from somewhere.

Crying.

Baby cries

Oh God.

That had Dean out of his seat in a flash.

He wasn’t even aware of the bodies on the floor, except for his attempts to try and not fall over them. He was out of that room and following those cries like a a drowning man swimming to land. Dean wasn't even thinking about it. He went down the hallways, they were still gleaming white, but Dean’s burnt clothing left ash streaks over the walls and floors. But then he found it. The screams were coming from behind a door.

His smoky hands left prints on the handle, and they smudged it up even more when Dean couldn't open it. There was something blocking the door. It was getting in his way, so Dean took a step back and kicked the door down. His foot left a black shoe print on the white wood as it toppled down.

It land on something — one of the nurses. Dean didn’t need to glance over at her to know that she was dead with her eyes burned out. No. He didn’t care about her. His eyes landed on the other nurse, the one furthest in the room. The crying was coming from her, but she was dead too. It wasn’t her, but Dean was by her side in an instant.

Dean fell to his knees by the body. He grabbed hold of her shoulder, pulled her out of his way, and she rolled off to the side.

Even with the dead weight off him the baby still kept crying his little heart out. Dean had years to learn what a newborns cries meant, and the little guy wasn't crying for food or a diaper change. He was freaked out and scared out of his mind. His face was red from the effort. His limbs were kicking the open air in quick jerks where they were peaking out of his white blanket. He kept wailing in distress, and it made Dean’s chest hurt for him.

“Hey,” Dean whispered softly and carefully gathered up the baby in his arms. The moment Dean picked him up, the more the baby wailed. He was near to having a fit. He was freaking out so much and Dean had no idea how to calm him down. He brought him close to his chest and held onto him firmly. “Hey, it’s okay, shh. It’s okay….”

Dean rubbed the little boy’s back in soothing circles. It took some time and a lot of reassurance for the baby to calm down, but his cries eventually died down to whimpers. Dean didn’t stop comforting him once. His heart was still in a panic and beating rapidly. When the whimper began to tamper off, the hunter couldn't hold back and dropped his gaze down to the infant in his arms.

And his heart immediately swelled up at the sight of him.

He looks like Cas. Everything about the baby instantly made him think about the former angel from his hair to his nose. Mother and son shared the same mahogany hair colour. It was a just as ruffled and messy in its style, Dean couldn't stop himself from running his hand through it and feeling how soft it was. The rest of the baby’’s features Dean couldn’t identify. He looked like any random newborn he had ever seen, his features won’t be distinctive for a bit more time, but he knew instantly that this was his son. The reason?

His eyes were red rimmed and glittering with hysterical tears, but they were blue. Bright blue. Just like Cas’, but they were the shape of the hunter’s dad but also Deans. Those were Dean’s eyes he was staring back at with Cas’ blue irises. He couldn’t believe it. It was the perfect mix between the two of them. How is that possible? How can this stranger be the perfect mix between them, he was just… he’s _perfect._

This is Cas’ son. Dean’s son.

They _made_ this.

Dean Winchester actually… made something perfect for once.

“Hey, buddy,” Dean beamed. He didn’t care if he was crying or looked like a goofy idiot int the circumstances. He couldn’t control the relief and the raw happiness that was racing through his veins, and he hugged his son close to his chest again. The baby grunted against him. Dean dropped his cheek to the top of his downy head and took a deep inhale through his nose. Holy crap, the baby smell is amazing. He totally gets it now. “It’s okay… daddy’s got you. Daddy’s got you…”

It might have been Dean’s imagination, but he could've sworn he felt his son snuggle up against his chest and mewl when he was comfortable. It had Dean let out a happy giggle and he hugged the baby closer. He had his son with him, safe and sound, and he was happy.

_I wish Cas could see you…_

This would've only been made better if Cas was with them and here to see the baby, but before Dean could feel any grief over that, he felt a presence and heard something that broke the silence in the room.

Footsteps. Someone was behind him.

Dean didn’t have a chance. Just as he was about to turn around and see who it was, that person placed a hand on his shoulder.

The next thing Dean saw was a bright light that consumed their entire existence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was it any good?
> 
> Please rate and review. xx


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't had a chance to spell check this, but I will one a later date. It's really late where I am and I just want to put this out there before I sleep.

The first thing Dean saw when he came into consciousness was the dark. He may have been awake, but he was too tired to even try and open them. It took him a few seconds for him to even try, but that felt like he was lifting the world on his shoulders.

The next thing he felt was the rough leather on the side of his cheek. When his eyes fluttered open, Dean recognised the back of his seats and the familiar smell of the Impala. He was in his car. He was laying on his side and, his head squished up to the door handle. There was a pain in his neck from the position he was in, it was threatening to start a pounding headache and his mouth felt dry and metallic. Dean released a groan when he lifted his head up, his brow bone hitting the handle lightly, but he hardly felt it. All he felt was the pounding headache that hit him like a tidal wave.

The next thing he felt was something pressed against his chest. It was warm and heavy and clinging onto him for dear life. Dean looked down and he breathed a sigh of relief. His baby was curled up to his ribcage, his cheek smushed up against his shirt and snoring like a piglet. His hair was a halo of messy locks over his forehead. His eyes were closed in a peaceful dream, with his fist clenched in Dean’s black shirt. He looked so much like Cas when he was sleeping that it made Den choke up a little bit. He doesn't think he could ever get over the resemblance.

“Hey, bud,” Dean whispered hoarsely. His arms were already wrapped around his little body, so he kept one arm around him while the other smoothed down his unruly hair. “Hey.”

The little guy didn’t move much. He was in a deep sleep, and he looked too peaceful to wake up. Dean had to get up though. This position was not comfortable, so he lifted himself up until he was sitting straight. He had to fight off the wave of dizziness that hit him, but he took a few seconds to calm himself. It woke the baby up only slightly because he grunted in annoyance and then he went back to sleep again.

It was in the middle of staring at the baby that Dean realised that he was still wrapped up in his ash stained blanket. Besides that he was completely naked. Dean began to worry because that blanket was barely enough to keep him warm. He must be freezing. In his panic, Dean couldn't find anything that was enough to keep him warm, but then he realised the obvious. He had his jacket around him. Idiot. It was open so all Dean had to do was tuck the baby in closer and then he zipped up his jacket over them both. That’s better. He looks cozy.

There was a build up of condensation on the windows. Dean wiped it down to clear and glanced out to see where they were. He recognised it straight away. The hospital. That doesn't make sense. The car was just as he left it, but how did Dean get in here?

Was it… the voice? Dean could swear he heard that voice before but he couldn't place it for the life of him. But how did he… why?

Dean didn’t want to think about that. He opens the door and steps out. The baby couldn't be seen from underneath his jacket so nobody was paying much attention to him. It was a cold day. The air was crisp. It cuts quick in his cheeks. It’s absolutely freezing, so Dean doesn't have to think when he makes his way over to the hospital doors and makes his way into reception. At this point, he was still on autopilot. He couldn't think much past the baby in his arms and getting into the warmth.

The moment he stepped in it was complete chaos. There must have been an accident or something because the ER was swarming with people. Doctors were rushing around like headless chickens with the nurses not too far behind, and then there would the crowds of people sitting around sporting injuries that looks like they were in the middle of a horror movie. It was a shocking scene in itself, but Dean saw it as an opportunity to slip in unseen. Everyone was too busy to notice a healthy guy, Dean thought. And he was right. The receptionist didn't even give him a glance.

It was weird. After everything that he has just seen in Heaven… life was going on in the hospital like any other day.

Dean wasn't really sure where he was going. He was just… walking. He doesn't know how he ended up back in the hallway from before. He just found himself in the same place from before, but… there was no one. No one was here, and… Dean didn't know what to do now.

“Hello,” Dean turned around at the voice. It was a nurse. She was watching Dean carefully for a few seconds, and she seemed like a sweet girl. Shouldn't she be in the ER? “Are you alright?”

Dean didn't now what to say at first and looked around the hallway. Was there a reason he was here? “Um… I think so. I don't know…”

“Are you looking for that tall guy?” the nurse helped out. “Brown hair, plaid shirt, incredibly good looking?”

Incredibly good looking? How was he—

Wait. Tall guy. Plaid.

Sam!

“Yes, he’s my brother,” Dean remembered. Was Sam still here? “Do you know where he is?”

“Yeah, he’s in the ICU department. He’s been there for awhile.”

Dean knows what ICU means. Intensive Care Unit.

Why would Sam be there?

What’s happened?

“W-where is that?” Dean asked.

The nurse pointed straightforward. “It’s just down the corridor. All you have to do it follow the signs and you’ll be there.”

“Thank you,” Dean nodded to her and instantly head down that direction. The baby was beginning the stir underneath his jacket and he didn't want her asking too many questions.

But she was right, though. It was easy to find and Dean was there in less than a few minutes (this hospital is huge). There were a few doctors around, but it was a calmer pace than it was in the ER. Many of the rooms were occupied, a random nurse would walk past him, barely giving him a second glance. It was very unusual.

Dean doesn't know what to do here. He was a little lost in it all, and… he has no idea what the fuck is happening.

Suddenly, a noise makes him jump and the jolt of his body makes the baby whine against his chest. He recognise the noise. It’s coming from him. His hand goes to his pocket and fishes out his cell phone. He completely forgot he had that on him. There was a crack in the middle of it that wasn't there before, but the only thing Dean focused on was his brother’s name across the screen. Dean wasn't sure what he should do. Does he answer? He should probably answer it, but the only thing Dean was capable of doing was staring at it in confusion. It kept ringing the whole time. It kept going for close to a minute until it ended. It was quiet again. Dean didn't put his phone back into his pocket straight away. He was standing there in the middle of the ICU, phone in hand and utterly still.

But then his phone rang again, and Dean wasn't sure what he should do this time.

But he didn't have to. There was a flurry of movement in front of him. Someone was looking around the room. Their eyes landed on Dean, he thinks, and they were rushing over to his side, and were grabbing his face and making him—

Sam. It’s Sam.

He’s saying something to him. Dean couldn't make it out. It only looked like moving lips on mute pause for awhile — until he felt a sting across his face. Which hurt like a bitch. And Dean had no idea why.

Oh. Sam slapped him across the face. He probably needed that. Or deserved it. Most likely deserved it.

But it worked. Dean felt a bit more acid than before and he could actually hear his brother speaking again. He was calling out his name and trying to get his attention, and Dean had to blink back his eyes because that was the only thing he could think of doing.

Dean turned to face his brother and it was the first time he saw just how tired he was. There were black rings under his eyes like he hadn't slept in days, and he looked so drained, physically and emotionally that it even scared Dean, so much so that it finally got Dean talking. “Sammy?”

“Dean!” Sam released a large sigh. He sounded so relieved, so much so that he practically collapsed against his shoulder. He held onto his brother for what felt like ages, but Dean never pushed him. Sam looks like he was on the brink of an emotional breakdown. He wasn't the only one.

Sam gave a shuddering breath against Dean’s shoulder. “I thought I was going crazy. I tried calling you and when I heard your phone…” Sam looked like he was on the verge of tears but then he lifted his head up and hit him on the shoulder. “Where the hell have you been?!”

No, Sam wasn't on the verge of tears. There were tears. He was crying. Those big ugly tears that left him looking drained and exhausted, and Dean was surprised by the shock that went through him. “Sam…”

Before Dean had the chance to say anything else, Sam was grabbing his arm and pulling him into another room“Damn it, Dean! Why couldn't you pick up your damn phone and tell me that you were okay. Where have you been all this… time?”

In the middle of Sam’s angry rant, his eyes landed on the wriggling mass pressed against Dean’s chest. The baby was starting to kick up a fuss again, and Dean was on hyper instinct to calm him down. He unzipped his jacket, but only slightly. He didn't want to expose him to the cold. The moment the jacket was half open, the baby’s fist pop out in a big stretch and he looked like he was on the verge of crying. Dean held onto his arm while he tried to sooth him and, eventually, the little guy began to calm down. He wasn't even aware that he had company until he looked up and saw his brother staring at him with an odd look on his face.

This was the first time Sam was meeting the little guy. How did Dean not realise that? Dean let his gaze fall on the baby for a moment and gaze his brother a shy smile when he looked up again. “You wanna say hi to your nephew, Uncle Sammy?”

“You got him back,” Sam whispered in shock.

“Yeah.”

Sam looked like he was incapable of speech for a moment, or he didn't know what to say. “How?”

Dean shook his head. “I don’t know. I don’t know, I can’t explain it. I’m not one hundred percent sure how it happened,” Dean whispered.

Sam didn't look like he believed Dean for a moment, but he seemed too caught up in staring at the baby to care about the details. “Can I see him?”

“Yeah, of course. Of course, Sammy,” Dean said. He immediately opened up his jacket and held a secure hand on the baby’s back to make sure he didn't fall. When the little guy was free, Dean manoeuvred him off his chest and brought him into Sam’s eager hands. “He’s amazing, Sammy. He hardly makes a sound, he hardly cries, and he looks so much like Cas. I can’t believe it, he’s just a perfect—”

Sam was just as captivated by the baby as Dean was, but Sam held him for a few seconds and then he placed him on the free bed near them. Once he was on the bed and safely placed, Sam took Dean by surprised and pushed him up against the wall with his forearm pressed to his neck. Dean grunted when his shoulder hit the solid concrete, and that seemed to help bring Dean back out of his weird head space and glared at his brother. “What the hell, Sam?”

But Sam was deadly serious. It even shocked his brother for a bit because Sam was not playing around here. “Dean, tell me the truth; did you make a deal?”

Dean frowned. “What?”

“I won’t be mad, I promise, but tell me. Did you make one?”

“What? A deal — No, I didn't make a deal,” Dean argued. “Why? Why are you asking me that?”

Dean was getting a little pissed at the accusation, but then he had a moment to think about it. Something was off. Sam was staring at him desperately, he used force to get an answer out of him and—

Wait. The ICU.

Why are they here? Sam’s obviously fine, so who needs intensive care?

“Sam, why are we in the ICU? What happened? What’s going on?”

Sam inhaled sharply as if he had been expecting this. “Dean, there is something I have to tell you—”

Now Dean was really beginning to panic. “What is it? Sam—”

“Dean, calm down. Something happened while you were gone.”

“What?!” Dean almost shouted.

“Okay!” Sam snapped. He ran a hand through his hair. “When you vanished on me… I don’t know how I can put this into words, so I’m gonna have to show you. But you need to stay calm. Promise me that.”

Dean didn't want to think how weird that request was because he was so on edge he would say yes to a fist fight with John Cena. “Fine, I promise I will keep calm. Just tell me what is going on.”

“Okay,” Sam said, but he dint say anything to explain to Dean what was racing through his head. All he did was scoop the baby up from the bed and rested him across his chest with the gentlest of touches from a hunter. He opened the door to the room they were in, checking over his shoulder to make sure Dean was by him and they headed out.

Sam didn't say a word as they went down the corridor, nor did he say anything when they stopped outside a room with a closed door. The blinds were down, so Dean couldn't see where they were going into, but it had Sam tensing up. He turned to look at his brother one more time and then he opened the door and they stepped inside.

The first thing Dean noticed was the machines. They were all surrounding a bed like a haunting ghost that taunted them with their constant beeping and mere presence. The heart monitor was pumping every second in a steady rhythm —

And Dean was hit by shock at who they were all connected to.

The person laying on the bed was still as a statue. He didn't move or react to anything around them. It would look like they were just sleeping if it wasn't for all the wires coming out of him, especially the tube that was in his mouth and down his throat. It looked so uncomfortable, but Dean knew what it was. He was hooked up to one when he was half dead a few years ago, it was the only thing keeping him live, but this… this shouldn't be happening. This was… this…

“Cas?” Dean asked, but he didn't get an answer. Of course he wouldn’t. Why would he? That didn't stop Dean from going to Cas’ side on the bed. The machine was doing the breathing for Cas. While he was laying unmoving, his chest was moving in time with the compression sounds from the ventilator. His hands were resting by his sides

But there was colour in his cheeks that was not there before when Dean saw him last. He was on the slab. He was ice cold and white. He was dead. But this…

What’s happening?

_What. Is. Happening?_

Dean slowly turned to stare at his brother and the baby who was oblivious to everything. He was trying to give his brother a serious look, but he probably came off looking more panicked and confused than anything, but that was understandable. He thinks. “Dude, what the hell?”

“I don’t know,” Sam said.

“Sam!” Dean demanded desperately.

“I don’t know!”

Dean had no idea what the hell was going on and his head was in too much of a mess to comprehend much now. “But… how?”

“I’m not sure,” Sam said, and he finally closed the door behind them. They were alone and they could talk more freely without the worry of being overheard. “I had to fill something out at the desk when a doctor came rushing in to find me. He was freaked out. He told me that they had moved Cas down to the morgue, the pathologist was just about to slice him open for the autopsy when… when Cas winced when she was about to cut him open. He nearly gave the poor woman a heart attack.”

That did nothing to help Dean find some clarity. It only made him more confused. “He died, Sam. I saw his body. He was dead.”

“I know,” Sam said. Dean wasn't sure if Sam knew it, but his brother’s finger tips began to play with the little wisps of hair near the baby’s head, and it seemed to b the only thing that was calming him down. “I saw his body too, Dean, but… I can't explain this. He lost too much blood, there was no way Cas could've survived that.”

Dean couldn't help it, but the image of the room where Cas had given birth popped into his head, and Dean felt nauseous at the memory of what he saw. “No one could survive that, Sam. Wait, what did the doctor say?”

“They have no idea what the hell happened. All I know is that he’s now in a coma and has been since you did your disappearing act.”

_A few hours? That can’t be too bad, could it?_ “Sam, the could be a good thing. If he’s only been out for a few hours then there might be a chance, right?”

“Hours?” Sam seemed confused by Dean’s reaction, but then a small clarity of understanding crossed his features. “Dean, what day is it?”

Dean huffed at that like it was obvious. “Monday.”

“You think it’s Monday?” Sam asked.

“Yes.”

“It’s Wednesday.”

Dean froze at that. He was silent for a minute before he plucked up the courage to speak again. “What?”

“You’ve been gone two days,” Sam stated.

Dean’s mind short-circuited at that. Days? Days? How is that possible? “But…oh my, God. Cas has been like this for days?”

“Yeah.”

“But I was only gone for a few hours. I’m sure I was… what happened?”

“You tell me.”

Dean didn't miss the hostility radiating form his brother’s voice, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He deserved it, but his mind was taking too much information for him to think straight. “I… Sam, I…”

Sam just watched Dean through his freak out, but his eyes widened when they noticed something. “Holy crap.”

“What?” Dean turned over to look at Cas. Has he woken up?

“Dean, your hands.”

“What about — oh.” Dean had no idea what his brother was talking about, but when he looked down at his own two palms, he realised what Sam was talking about. Metatron’s treatment had more lasting effects from when the bounds on his hands melted — his hands are burnt. They were a bright angry red and they could possibly blister, but that hadn't happened yet. Dean just stared down them for a few seconds. “Oh, I forgot about that.”

Sam stared at Dean in shock at that statement. “Forgot about — what happened to you?”

Dean shook his head. It felt fuzzy again like last time. “I-I don’t… I don’t wanna—”

Dean kept mumbling again after that. He didn't even realise Sam was standing in front of him and grabbing the side of his face so that he could look him in the eyes. “Dean, I think you're in shock. What do you feel?”

Dean didn't know how to answer that. He didn't know anything anymore. He shook his head slightly to Sam and he saw the worry bleed into his eyes. “Okay, Dean. Sit down. Sit down.”

Dean let himself be manhandled until he was sitting in one of the free seats they had in the room. Sam kneeled in front of him with a steady eye focused on him to check on his brother. “When was the last time you slept?”

Did he sleep in the car? He didn't feel rested. Did that count?

Dean’s lack of response was enough of an answer. “Lay down and see if you can get some sleep, okay? We’ll talk later.”

The next thing Dean knew, he was relaxing into the chair with his head leaning against the back of it for support. He didn't argue, he didn't say anything. He closed his eyes and he fell asleep.

 

* * *

 

When Dean woke up it was to the sound of crying.

He shot up from his seat, but he grimaced. There was an uncomfortable ache in the back of his neck from the position he was sleeping in, and he had to rub it to get the crick out. It hurt like a bitch, but Dean’s had worse. Besides, he was more on edge than anything else. When he opened his eyes to see what was wrong with the little guy, Dean instantly relaxed for a moment. Sam was by the bed, with the baby, and re-wrapping a fresh blanket around him. Once he as swaddled up again, the baby’s cries quietened down until he was only whimpering.

Sam must have noticed Dean waking up because he started talking. “I didn’t mean to wake you. He’s fine. I snuck out to get a few diapers and stuff from maternity, but I don’t think he needed it.”

“How long was I asleep?”

Sam picked up the baby and held him close to his chest. The little guy’s whimpers died down and he snuggled in close to each his uncle. “Two, maybe three hours. You were out like a light.”

It felt like it. Dean’s joints were achy and his eyes were stinging from the dim light, but he closed them and shook his head to wake up a little bit. “How is he?”

“Good. Really good, actually, he hasn't made a peep. Is that normal? Babies should be kicking up a fuss by now, but this guy is incredibly well behaved,” Sam said. He looked down at the baby in his arms with a sad look across his face. “He’s not human, is he? He’s an angel?”

Dean began to panic at that. “Why do you think that?”

“I’ve had time to think about what Metatron said before I passed out,” Sam said. “Why would he take a baby and what he said about their brother? It was easy to put the pieces together after that. So what does this mean for us? What happened to you in Heaven, Dean?”

“You wouldn't believe me if I told you,” Dean said.

“Dean, I thought you were dead for the last few days. I can believe in a lot of things.”

Sam sounded absolutely bitter about that, and Dean knew he couldn't get around the issue. He had to tell the truth. “Metatron’s dead.”

Sam’s eyes widened in shock. “You killed him?”

“No. Something else did. I don’t know what happened, Sammy, but… they were going to kill me when I refused to leave without the baby. It was close too, but… something saved me.”

“What saved you?” Sam asked.

Dean shook his head. “I have no clue. There was a flash of bright light and they all… they burned to death, their eyes…” Dean couldn't finish that sentence. The memory of it still sent a sick shiver down his spine. “But we were okay. Sam, I have no idea how this has happened, but the next thing I knew we were in the car. That’s all I can remember.”

Sam was silent for a moment and the silence dragged on for what felt like hours. Sam seemed to be ruminating over the details of Dean’s story, until Sam shook his head. “That makes no sense at all.”

“I know. I can’t explain it.”

“So he’s safe? The angels won’t be coming back for him?”

“I don’t think so,” Dean shook his head. “I don’t think anyone will be coming back for him.”

“That’s a relief,” Sam sighed and cupping a hand to the baby’s hair. “But what happened now?”

Dean wasn't sure. His eyes went towards the former angel in the bed. “Wait for Cas to wake up?”

Sam followed his brother’s line of sight, but for some reason that Dean couldn't understand, Sam looked unsure about that. When he looked over to his brother, Dean knew he was trying to hide his doubt. “You’re certain Cas will wake up? What if he doesn't?”

Dean was surprised by that question. “He will. He has to, he came back from the dead. That has to be good, right?”

Sam didn't answer Dean, but that was when Dean knew something was really wrong. His little brother was trying to hide something from him, and it was something serious. Now that he was looking for it, Dean could see how uneasy his brother seemed, how cagey he was over the infant in his arms. Dean just thought it was how exhausted he was, but now he is not so sure. He said that Cas was going to be okay so why—

Wait, did Sam say that?

No. No he didn’t. He just said the doctors don’t know how this happened.

That’s no the same thing.

“Sam, what are Cas’ exact chances? I want to know everything the doctors told you. Everything.”

For a while, Sam didn't say anything. He was taking his time trying to formulate this carefully, but it was only delaying the inevitable, but Dean waited. He waited until Sam was ready to be honest. “There is sign of brain activity, although it is very low, but there is some. He’s responsive to pain and other stimulus, but… but they don't know how long Cas was starved of oxygen when he was in surgery… Dean, if Cas does wake up, the doctor said there is a strong chance he might have severe brain damage.”

Dean couldn't say anything to that. He didn't know how to respond to that. He looked over to Cas, he was still motionless except for the ventilator. Now that he was watching him carefully, Dean realised that Cas still looked like the white corpse from earlier in the surgery, only this time he was technically alive, but… but Cas was not awake, nor did it look like he was going to wake any time soon.

Cas couldn't be… he couldn’t. Cas had survived so many things, but to be left in that state… the thought of it was so wrong. This couldn't happen to him. It can’t.

But what if he was? What if he was brain damaged? How bad was it? What were they going to do?

“How will we know for sure?” Dean asked.

Sam shrugs. “There were talks of doing a brain scan, but the only thing that will tell us is when he wakes up.”

“So we wait?” Dean asks again.

“We wait.”

That is easier said than done. So reluctantly, Dean had no choice but to wait.

 

* * *

 

It was a few hours in when a doctor came in to do a check on Cas that night. It wasn't Brag or any other doctor Dean knew. He was a nice enough guy, a Dr. Jacobs, he thinks. Anyway, he came in and did his checks, but there didn't seem to be any improvement, but Jacobs was reassuring enough to tell him that might be a good thing. It would be more worrying if he was facing a decline, but this was good. Cas was stable. This was good.

But it didn't make Dean feel better. Stable or not, Cas was still in a coma and it didn't look like he was going to wake up soon. It’s been constant battle of just watching Cas unresponsive and prone in the bed, with a tube down his throat that is helping him to breathe. It was such a wrong sight. There was a time where Cas didn't sleep at all, but now it wouldn't stop, and Dean had no idea what to do to help.

All three of them stayed by his side. Dean, Sam, the little guy. They waited. It was all they could do. As the steady stream of nurses kept coming in to check on Cas’ stats, the brothers waited around and took turns with taking care of the baby, but there wasn't much for them to do. He didn't need feeding, and the lack of appetite meant he didn't need a diaper change every five minutes or so. Hello. Angel. Cas didn't need to do any of that stuff when he was an angel, so it makes sense that the same logic would apply for an angel baby. Why not? But the problem with that is Dean doesn't know how he is making much of an impact of the kid’s life when… when he kid didn't really need him.

He sleeps a lot, though. That’s the only thing he definitely needs, and Sam thought maybe it’s how he has to grow. He doesn't eat, but the kid still needs to grow. Right? Is he going to grow? Angels don’t age, does that mean the baby is going to stay a baby forever? That can’t be right. Is it? Dean has no clue, and neither does Sam. Heck, they’re both confused right now, and they have no idea what to do.

Right now, the little guy is sleeping on Sam’s chest to give Dean the chance to get some more sleep. They've been passing him around in intervals, so they could get stuff done. Sam looked like he hadn't gone home in days. He was still wearing the same outfit he wore when Dean found him in the centre, Dean remembers that, but Sam looked like he desperately needed a shower and a night in his own bed. He looked just as exhausted as Dean feels right now.

“Sam, when was the last time you went home?”

Sam shrugged at that. “Um… awhile.”

“Would ‘awhile’ be days?”

“Maybe.”

Dean huffed a light smile. “Go home and get some rest.”

“I want to stay here.”

“Nothing seems to be happening today. I’ll keep an eye on him until you come back.”

It was only after a bit more convincing on Dean’s part, Sam finally caved in. He handed the baby back over to Dean as carefully as he could. The little guy was still sleeping soundly and Dean held him carefully against his own check until the little guy was comfortable. He snuggled in close and sighed back to sleep with Dean’s hand on his back.

Once Sam was out the door the room felt unnaturally quiet. Sam’s presence was able to fill up the dead space, but all he had now was the constant beeps of a machine. Cas was still unresponsive, but Dean realised that this is the first time he was alone with him, and he couldn't say anything. The last time Cas had talked to him was the night he walked out and left Cas crying and alone. This wasn't exactly what he had imagined his meeting with Cas would go, but anything other reality where Cas is okay would be better than not knowing if he was going to wake up.

But what if Cas never wakes up? What will he do then? He had just had a baby and now there was a chance he might never wake up? How the fuck is that fair?

It’s not fair. Cas has to wake up. He has to.

Dean tucked the little guy close and got up from the chair and made his way to Cas’ side on the bed. He sat on the edge. Dean didn't want to take his space, it was a small bed after all, but he was close to his side. Dean couldn't help but notice that Cas still didn't react from the dip in the mattress once Dean sat down, and he tried not to let it bug him, but that wasn't Cas’ fault. Dean settled the baby on his chest with one hand and let his free one slip over Cas’ hand that was laying by his side and took it into his own. He gave it a light squeeze, but the former angel’s hand was still limp in his.

“Cas?” Dean asked, but he knew he wasn't going to get an answer. He still kept talking because he need to say this. He needed to get this off his chest. “You probably don’t want to talk to me right now, or ever for that matter. I know I have been the worst human being in the world right now, but Cas if you are in there… please wake up. Please? That’s all I am asking of you right now because there are people who need you. Sam will be an emotional wreck without you. He’s a big girl like that, you know, but you also have this little guy here. I’m calling him little guy, he doesn't have a name. I don’t think I have the right to name him when you did all the work. You probably read all the baby name books to try and find something you like. And the thing is… I need you to wake up, too. I know this may be too late, but… I need you, Cas. Remember that? I need you, but if you don’t want me in your life, that’s okay. I’ll leave. I’ll stay out out of your life, even if that means the little guy’s too, but I want you to know that… that this time I want to stay. I want to stay with you both, and I know I don’t deserve a second chance, or third, fourth, or fifth chance in this case, but if you can find it in your heart to let me stay in your lives, then I will do everything in my power to make it up to you guys. But I need you to wake up.”

Cas lay soundly unconscious and probably oblivious to Dean’s confession, but it was what Dean had to say. He kept a hold of Cas’ hand the whole time, and kept on waiting until the hours ticked by.

 

* * *

 

Dean knows he gave Sam some time to himself, but when morning rolled by and he still hadn't heard anything from his little brother, Dean began to worry. It wasn't like him to not tell him where he was, so after an hour of trying to find the courage to leave Cas for a while, Dean told Cas he will come back and he left the hospital and got into his car.

He made it to the Bunker as soon as he could. When Dean and the little guy crossed the threshold, he was surprised by how quiet it was. It was just like how it was when Sam and Dean first discovered the place. It was still, but there was a hint that there was tones of potential to be found. But right now it looked like no one was in. That couldn't be right.

Dean dug into his pocket and pulled out his cell. He dialled Sam’s number and waited for his brother to pick up, but he didn't have to. He could hear Sam’s ringtone somewhere in the building and all Dean had to do was follow it like breadcrumbs.

The ringtone lead him down the halls, past the main bedrooms until Dean was standing next to Cas’ room, but the ringtone wasn't coming from there. It was coming from the room next door.

That was strange. That room was completely empty the last time he was here. Dean doesn't even think they use that room for storage, so what was in there? He approached the door carefully and pushed the door open to let the light bleed through, and Dean realised that this room was more than he had realised.

The dust that had once decorated the room was gone and was spruced up into a beautiful space. The walls were painted white with grey polka-dots scattered around the place and on the edges were stickers of elephants — actually, there was a theme of elephants on everything. Baby blankets, bottles, a crib mobile that hung over where the baby would sleep. It was all there. And the best little feature about it was the multicoloured map of America that was hanging on the wall above the crib. It was strangely fitting mohave that in there knowing how much traveling the brothers have to do with being a hunter.

But in the middle of the room was Sam. He was resting his back against the crib, his head resting on the arm that was balanced on his knee. He didn't move when the door opened, but his eyes flickered up. He knew Dean was there. He just did care.

Dean could guess that Sam too his advice and showered and slept. He was wearing different clothes and he shaved recently. The slight stubble was gone and his hair was still damp from the very recent shower, but my God, did he look awful. Sam looked completely exhausted, not just from lack of sleep, but he looked emotionally drained and wiped out, and it made Dean’s protective instincts haywire.

Dean and the little guy silently took a seat by his brother on the floor. He waited for Sam to start the conversation first because he knew Sam wouldn't answer if he tried, so he waited. He waited until his brother finally decided to open up.

“I, um… I was packing some stuff and I just…”

Sam couldn't seem to finish that, but Dean didn't push. Sam didn't need to be used on something like this, and a minute later Dean saw a tear trailed its way down Sam’s cheek when he bit his lip to hold back the sobs he wanted to let out. “I thought I lost you all that day.”

Dean didn't need to ask what day his brother meant. The day he ran off to Heaven without a seconds thought, and he didn't even think about what that would mean for Sam. He didn't even think about it. He didn't even think about what this was doing to his brother. Fuck, Dean felt like a jackass. “Sam—”

But before Dean could say something, Sam’s hand came out to shut him up. “Do you remember that new feed about the parents whose kid went missing? Not even just them, but any parents who lost a kid. They never touch their bedrooms. No matter how long they have been gone for, their parents never touch their bedrooms. They would stay like that for years an untouched memorial of the child they might never see again. I’ve been sitting here, thinking this was going to be another one of those rooms, and then I remembered your room and Cas’ room and…” Sam’s eyes were glittering with tears again and, this time, Sam didn't hold back. He let them fall over his cheeks and he wiped them away with the back of his hand. “I thought I was never going to see you guys again. You just charged off without a thought — What the hell were you thinking? Did you even think about what you were doing?”

No. No, he wasn't. “Sammy…”

Now Sam really lost it with him. “Don’t call me that! Don’t speak. I’m not done. I was this close to hating you. Do you know why? Because this is what I want,” Sam seethed, pointing around the nursery. “I helped Cas with doctor appointments, I helped him when he was lonely, I helped him paint this nursery and bought all of the stuff in here. I did it because I wanted too, but do you know how hard it is to remember that this is for a family that is not yours? I would give anything for a chance of this. I want my own family, Dean. I want it, and you get the chance and you just ran away. _You ran_.”

“I know, Sam—”

“No, I have to say this. I need to,” Sam shifted his body so that he was facing Dean, and he kept his voice low in an attempt not to wake the little guy up, but it didn't lack in seriousness. “You bailed, Dean. You bailed on family. After everything we have been through, everything that has tried to kill us, or destroy it, and you run out over this? After everything you have done, after everything, why do you think you can just come back now? I know you haven't said anything, but I know you. I’ve seen the way you are with the baby, you want to stay, and I’m not okay with that.

Sam took a moment to compose himself before he completely lost it.“Do you have any idea what you did to Cas? He was messed up for days, blamed himself, tried to find ways he could make things better, but do you know what the worst part was? He asked me how he tried to make things up to you? Can you believe that? You were the asshole and Cas wanted to make things up to you. It’s so warped. Do you know Cas still feels guilty about working with Crowley, the Leviathans, the whole angels falling rom Heaven? He blames himself for all of that, and maybe he’s doing this because he knows what it’s like to beg for forgiveness. I think he wants you to forgive him just as much as he wants to be forgiven, and he wants that more than anything. So if you do want to come back, there are conditions.”

Dean nodded without hesitation and was willing to listen.

“This is not going to be easy, but that is the point,” Sam said. “If Cas wakes up, and if he is willing to let you even be a part of his life, you forgive him for everything and you have to show it. You have to grovel, beg, even bark like a dog if he tells you to, but the second he wakes up, you forgive him. You tell him that everything he has done is forgiven without any doubt. What happened after that, you do everything you can to make things right because I will kick you out if you do don't do this. I don’t want to be mean, Dean. I am saying this because I love you and I want you in my life… but you need to get your head out of your ass, and you need to grow up. It’s not just you anymore. You have me, Cas, and your son now. Like it or not, we are family, and we stick together no matter what. You got that?”

Dean was trying to find the words to answer Sam, but he couldn’t. He couldn't bring himself to say anything past the lump in his throat and the sting in his eyes, but he couldn't deny that Sam was right. He was so right. He had screwed up. Big time. He knew that, and Sam knew that and Cas knew that. Heck, everyone knows that, and Dean knew that he had a lot to do if he was going to be forgiven, but even that was a stretch in its self. He could feel it creeping in, the same doubt that has plagued him since the whole thing started, and just when Dean was about to let it take over agin, the little guy began to shift in his arms.

When he looked down, the little guy’s face was in a deep frown and he looked like he was on the verge of crying. This was the first time Dean ad ever seen him kick up a fuss and even then it was the quietest thing he heard. He didn't wail out or screech like most newborns do, but maybe it was because he was grumpy more than anything else. Maybe it was true of babies picking up peoples moods and reacting to them, or maybe it was just his angel radar picking it up. Dean didn't know how he was going to calm him down. He wasn't good with babies. He wasn't even good with Ben most of the time, but this is his kid and he has no idea how to—

But the next thing startled him. Dean didn't even realise when he brought his hand down near the little guy’s face, his finger running down his cheek in an attempt to soothe him, and the baby reached out and grabbed his hand without question. His fist was clenched over his, gripping tight like he didn't want to let go. It was a reflex, Dean knew that, but when the little guy opened his eyes and looked directly at him, he knew that it wasn't just that because the baby stopped frowning instantly. He held on to Dean and yet he never took his eyes off him.

For a split second, it was like the little guy was looking right into Dean’s soul and, in that moment, Dean realised that he is looking at his soul. He keeps forgetting that the baby is an angel. He doesn't see what Dean looks like, or Sam, all he can see is the souls that makes them who they are. That means this baby is seeing everything that makes Dean… Dean. He can see every broken shard, every shameful secret, every shattered part of himself that was smashed on by this life he has had no choice but to live out, and this little guy could see it all.

And he was seeing into his soul and he kept holding on to him like he never wanted to let go.

And in a flash, all Dean’s doubts just went away.

Dean wiped his cheek and nodded to Sam. He didn't miss how his brother blinked at him, but whether it was in surprise or relief, he wasn't sure. All he did was class Dean’s shoulder tightly and nodded.

Nothing else was said for the next few minutes. The little guy kept holding on to Dean the entire time, and Sam didn't move from his spot. Dean felt like he should say something, but just as he thought bout that Sam spoke up. “And there is one more thing that I need you to do.”

“Anything,” Dean said with a hoarse voice.

“Can I please hold my nephew?”

Dean didn't need Sam to ask that at all.

 

* * *

 

After that talk in the nursery, Dean packed up a few of the things that they thought they would need for a few days stay at the hospital. There was a diaper bag in the room, and Dean filled it with as much baby clothes, diapers and formula that they would need (the little guy didn't seem to need any of it but better safe than sorry). Once Sam had his stuff packed, Dean grabbed the car seat, buckled the baby in and they drove back to Cas.

He was still unconscious when they came back. Dean tried to push down the disappointment he felt and went back to waiting by his bedside. It had become routine now, especially for Sam, and when it came to dinner time, Dean decided to go out and get some proper food because he has tasted hospital food. It’s crap. He wasn't sure if he was allowed to do this, but he was good at sneaking things in. Won’t know won’t hurt them, right? He grabbed a large order from the first takeout he saw and drove back to the hospital. It was going to be obvious if he was carrying that large a bag in with a chicken logo, but there was a spare duffle in the trunk. He could hide it in there. Dean went over and popped open the trunk but when he did, his eyes landed on a white plastic bag.

The bee onesie. He had completed forgotten about that.

Dean grabbed it with the duffle bag and shoved everything he could in there. No one had bat an eyelid at him, and he made it back without interference.

The brothers ate in complete silence, with the little guy sitting happily in his car seat with a pacifier in his mouth, wearing the bee onesie Dean had bought him all those weeks ago.

 

* * *

 

The next morning, Dean had the little guy in his hands and staring down at him. He was watching him carefully and making funny faces at him to see his reactions. Yeah, most babies couldn't control their facial features yet, but the little guy was so damn expressive it was funny. Between ever coo and mewl, the baby would make the strangest expressions ever, and Dean couldn't help but be fascinated by them. He was already becoming a funny guy.

Dean had to look up though when Sam came back in the rom after announcing he had to take a leak a few minutes ago. There was nothing unusual about that except for the fact that Sam was staring out between the blinds to the hall.

“Sam, what’s up?” Dean asked. He went to put the little guy back in his car seat and went to Sam’s side.

“Saw a policeman outside. I don’t think they were here for us, though.”

_Okay… that was odd._ “Since when were you afraid of the cops?”

“Hm, let me think? Since Cas came in here bleeding without a baby and they put an Amber alert out. How are we going to explain how we got him back?”

Shit. Dean hadn't thought about that. “Crap.”

“Exactly,” Sam agreed. “I haven't heard anything from them in a few days. Something doesn't feel right about that. Usually, they're all over a kidnapping case, especially one with kids.”

Yeah, Dean has seen enough cops shows to know that they try to find abducted kids within the first twenty-four hours. Something defiantly wasn't right there. “What are the chances of them not showing up until Cas wakes?”

“I don’t know. It’s not good though,” Sam murmured with his eyes still peaking through the blinds. Once he was satisfied that the cop was gone, he let go of the blind and stepped away. “But we’re good for now.”

“Yeah, for now. But what are we going to do if they show up unannounced?”

Dean was expecting Sam to answer him, but what he did get was a little weird. Sam turned around and smacked him on the back a few times. Not hard, but firm enough, which was weird in itself, so Dean turned to face Sam with a frown. “Why’d you do that?”

Sam looked back at Dean with the same expression. “You didn't cough?”

“Uh, no.”

“I swear I heard a—”

Before Sam could finish that, something interrupted them. A cough. But it didn't come from either of them.

Their eyes darted to Cas on the bed and, to their relief and shock, Cas was moving. He was moving. His hands were flying to the respirator that was over his mouth and he was beginning to duffer through a fit of coughs that were wrecking his body. He was trying to fight the tube.

Sam and Dean were instantly by his side. Sam must have known what to do more than Dean, because he began to unclip the mask from the side of his mouth and slowly began to ease the tube out of his mouth. It seemed to take forever because Cas was really freaking out. The minute the tube was out, Cas leaned forward and his entire body was hit with a violent coughing fit that left him exhausted. When it ended, Cas had to fall back into the bed just to get some air back into his lungs. His eyes were watering from the forcefulness of it and his face was bright red, but he found the energy to look round the room until his eyes landed on Sam.

“Hey, Cas,” Sam sighed in relief. “How are you feeling?”

Cas seemed to have trouble speaking in between coughs, but he was persistent. “W-w… where am I?”

“You’re in the hospital. Do you know how you got here?” Sam asked.

Cas looked panicked by the news and shook his head.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. Cas, can you tell us what is the last thing you remember?”

Cas thought about the question and tried to answer. “Um… I remember… I remember seeing nurse Donna at the centre…” Just when Cas finished that sentence, Dean saw the moment Cas remembered it all. He could see it all rush back into his eyes with the harrowing fear with it. His hands grabbed for his middle, and his horror was unmistakable when he looked down and realised his bump was no longer there. “Sam!”

“Cas, hey — hey!” It was Dean’s turn to get Cas’ attention. “Cas, it’s okay. We’ve got him. He’s here. He’s here with us.”

Dean didn't give Cas time to get confused by his unexpected presence. He went straight to the car seat and picked up the little guy and went straight back to the former angel’s side. Once he was close enough to the bed, Cas’ greedy hands shot out and grabbed the little guy out of his arms and had him curled up to his own chest.

The little guy whimpered at the unexpected hold, but he didn't complain much. Cas had him practically enveloped to his chest, his body curled over him, like a protective bear over their cub. His body was beginning to shake with shivers, and Dean couldn't stop when he put his hand on Cas’ back in an attempt to try and soothe him.

“He’s okay, Cas. He’s okay…”

 

* * *

 

 

“I don’t understand, I… these results are impossible,” Dr. Jacobs said, completely baffled He must have been reading Cas’ tests for the third time now, but he still looked confused as can be. “I did a complete check up, I checked everything. You were dead, and for who knows how long. You should've suffered severe brain damage, but there’s nothing here that’s out of the ordinary. You are physically and mentally healthy, and if it wasn't for your prenatal records and ER arrival last week, I never would've guessed you have given birth at all. I must say, Castiel, I’m not a religious man in the slightest, but you must have a guardian angel out there somewhere.”

_Oh, the irony…_

Cas gave Dean and Sam a quick glance at that last line, one that the doctor thankfully didn't notice, and it was even better when Dr. Jacobs had to be called away just as quickly. The minute the door was closed and the trio were left in peace, the brothers let out a sigh that had been building the entire evaluation. They would have no idea what to say if Jacobs asked something they couldn't answer, and all they wanted to do now was get the hell out of here.

“D’you think we got away with that?”

Sam shrugged. “Don’t know, but I’ll try and convince him to see if we can get out today. I’m not waiting for them to call the police. I’ll be back soon.”

Sam followed out the door in that same breath. The minute that door was closed, Dean realised that he was now alone with Cas. For the first time since that night.

Dean turned around to find Cas watching him carefully, with the little guy still curled up to his chest. He hasn't been able to put him down all morning, and nor did he want to for that matter. Dean doesn't blame him. He can’t imagine what must be going through Cas’ head right now. If what he saw in Cas’ final moments were haunting him, then Cas’ must be experiencing it worse…

Dean felt like he should say something. He should, anything to break the awkward tension between them. “Um… I don’t know how much Sam has told you, or how much you know already, but… I came down as fast as I could. I tried to get here, but I was too late to save you guys and then I found Sam at the centre—”

“What are you doing here, Dean?”

Wow. Cas was direct this time. He didn't seem to be in the mood for games, and Dean was going to comply with that. “I saw you in trouble. I saw what happened to you in the centre and I drove here as fast as I could.”

“You saw me?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah, I had some sort of vision. I saw everything that happened. Metatron taking you, the angels… the birth. I saw it all. There was nothing I could do to stop it. And I couldn’t… I couldn't save you.”

Cas only nodded at that. He didn't ask about the visions or any of the other stuff about Metatron, he just kept his eyes down on the little guy wriggling in his arms. Even after being in a coma for days, Cas looked absolutely exhausted. He probably didn't care about Metatron or what happened (Sam had already filled him in a few minutes after he had calmed down. He knows everything now) and probably just wants to go home. Who could blame him? He’s had a hell of a time these past few weeks.

But Dean was probably not going to be able to get a chance like this. He could dance around the issue, or he could man up and be honest like he promised Sam he would, and if he wanted to stick around…

It was time to grow up.

“Cas, I am so, so sorry.”

“Dean…”

“Please,” Dean begged. He took a seat by his bed, so that he was facing Cas and the baby. “I know I don’t deserve for you to listen to me. I have done some horrible things to you. I know I’ve hurt you in ways that I can’t even imagine, but I am willing to do whatever I can to make it up to you, and to him. Please let me be in your lives again.”

Cas was silent the whole time. It didn't even look like he was listening to the hunter if it wasn't for the occasional glance he sent his way every now and then, but Dean was patient. He waited for Cas to give him anything, anything he could hold on to, and it wasn't long before Cas crumbled and sighed. “That’s not what you said last time.”

Dean felt the familiar stab of guilt in his gut at the memory of what he said in the kitchen. he thinks he always will. “I know.”

“Why did you change your mind?” Cas asked.

“Let’s just say I had a humongous kick up the ass like you wouldn't believe,” Dean tried to lighten up the moment, but all he got was a uneasy glance from Cas. “Look, after everything I did, I understand if you want to say no. If you want me to leave then I can pack the rest of my stuff and I will never bother you guys again—”

“I don’t want you to leave,” Cas interrupted with annoyance. “I didn't want you to leave in the first place. But I’m tired of expecting things from you, Dean, so I’m not going to do that anymore. You can do what you want. You can leave or stay. You are free to make your own choices, and if you want to stay then I won’t stop you. But our relationship won’t be the same as it used to be.”

Dean nodded at that. “Maybe that’s a good thing. The way it used to be was not healthy, and that was my fault. Maybe we can make things better. We can be better for him,” Dean nodded to the baby. “It doesn't have to be romantic or anything, I can understand if you don’t want to touch me with a ten foot pool, but… we could try being friends? Co-parents? Anything you want?”

“I don’t want you to make promises you can’t keep.”

“I can keep that promise.”

“I don’t trust your promises,” Cas admitted.

Dean tried to ignore the sting of that, but it was his fault Cas felt that way.

“But the Bunker was your home first. I would never force you out. And Sam said I can stay, so we have to come to some arrangement if you do wish to stay. But like I already told you, you can do whatever you want, but I am not expecting anything.”

Okay. Okay, Dean nodded. That was something. That was actually more than he was expecting, so he didn't want to seem ungrateful. He was allowed to come home. He had… some sort of arrangement going on with Cas, so Dean was not going to ask for more when he should receive none.

He would just have to work harder for it.

“Thank you, Cas.”

Cas didn't reply. They sat in silence for a long time with their gazes completely fixed on the baby in Cas’ arms that was cooing away happily.

“So… what about names?” Dean wondered and in an attempt to try and build bridges. “We can’t keep calling him ‘baby’ forever, and that only works in Dirty Dancing. What have you decided on?”

Cas seemed confused by the Dirty Dancing reference, but that disappeared the moment Dean asked what he decided on. He looked down at the infant with an expression that got more puzzled with every second. “I don’t know. I’ve tried thinking of one, but they never seemed right, then Sam suggested I wait to see what he looks like to see what name would fit him. It doesn't appear to be working.”

Dean smiled. “Did you find anything you liked in those baby name books?”

“Yes, and they have the silliest suggestions I have ever heard. Why would parents name their child after a fruit? finding a name has been more difficult than I thought it would be.”

“You’re not alone, Cas. Could I help?”

Chas looks uncomfortable by that. “Um… I’ve been very stuck. I was even contemplating… continuing the Winchester tradition of naming their offspring after deceased relatives. Like your father.”

Dean was stunned silent by that, but not in a good way, and by the look on Cas’ face, he could sense that too, and Dean had to explain before he got the wrong end of the stick. “Cas, that is sweet, but no way. No way in hell.”

“Dean, that’s your father’s name.”

“Exactly. It’s my dad’s name. Cas, I loved my dad, but there are so many bad memories with him and giving his name, full of nothing but the darkest time in mine and Sam’s lives, to our son? We don't want that. He deserves better than that.”

Cas sighed in annoyance. “Then what shall we christen him?”

Dean leaned in close to look at the baby and to see what would suit him. “Something light. Something that isn't recycled. I love you mom, but we can see what you did with naming me and Sam after your parents. And something… something happy.”

“Happy? Happy…” Dean could see the cogs working in Cas’ head, and when he glanced down at the little guy, Cas seemed to find something he finally liked. “What do you think of Asher?”

“Asher? What does that mean?” Dean asked.

“It’s Hebrew. It means blessed, fortunate… and happy.”

Happy? Asher? Dean let that name roll off the tip of his tongue and he was beginning to like it. When he glanced down at the baby, the temporary name ‘little guy’ no longer fit. He was already beginning to fit to the name, and Dean was becoming more certain with it by the second. “Hm, well… what do you think, buddy? You like the name Asher?”

The baby’s only response was a grunt, but it was something. He waved his little fists around and stretched his legs, and if that wasn't a big yes in baby form, then Dean had no idea what was.

“I think that’s settled,” Dean said with a glance up at Cas, and he saw that the former angel was smiling too. It was his shy smile that Dean only saw when Cas was certain no one was looking, and Dean realised that they were able to make this decision together, and maybe, just maybe, this could be something that they could do again. Just maybe. “Welcome to the world, Asher.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Asher is biblical name, which means "fortunate, blessed, happy one" in Hebrew. Asher was also one of the twelve sons of Jacob in the Bible. (I got that from Nameberry).
> 
> Did you like it?


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait. This was a tricky one and it took a lot longer than what I had originally planned.
> 
> *Falls to the floor in exhaustion*
> 
> Hope it's not bad.

Asher Winchester (Cas agreed to the last name).

Born 19th July, three and a half weeks early.

He weighed in at seven pounds and three ounces.

He had big feet for a newborn baby.

And just like Dean had thought, Asher’s blue eyes didn't stay for long.

As time went by, his baby blue eyes faded until the hue of them bled away into bright green iris’s that sent a shock through Dean because… just wow. They were beautiful on him, and they were so striking. Anyone who bumped into them at the store, or at a restaurant, or even at the park all had to do a double take because they were just so captivating. Come on, Dean couldn't help but be a bit proud. Asher was already turning heads and he was just a newborn. Imagine how handsome he will be when he’s older.

Oh, God… Dean did not want to think about that. Asher was going to be a baby forever. Yes he will. He’s just too cute and even if day by day he was changing, to Dean he will always be a baby, even when he is a teenager who will constantly be embarrassed by his parents. As much as Dean is looking forward to those years, that does not mean he is willing to let go of the adorable baby Asher truly is. He definitely got that from Cas.

He was becoming more like Cas every single day. Asher already looked like him since the moment he was born, but it was like he was becoming Cas’ mini twin. His hair became more unruly, he mirrored his expressions perfectly, and the shape of his face became more defined, but he still had his chubby cheeks. Honestly, Dean was a little jealous at the resemblance. He knew he shouldn't be, but when those green eyes started to bleed through, Dean couldn't help but feel happy at that. There was some part of Dean that showed when Asher looked up at him.

God, he was just a perfect kid. Yeah, nearly all parents say that about their kids, but Asher genuinely is a perfect baby.

The first week after they brought him home (with Sam’s very cleverly forged discharge papers that wouldn't alert the police of their disappearance) the only thing Asher did was suck on his thumb and be his adorable self. And when he did cry, he would let you know something was wrong. He had a cry that made his entire body shudder and his face turn tomato red. There was no doubt that his lungs were in full working order. Dean learned that during the first week they brought him home.

It was such a shock to the system. Asher had been quiet and content all week. He never made a peep most days, but now he was crying full pelt. Dean did everything he could think of to try and calm him down, but it didn't work. The only times Asher would cry like this was when he was left on his own for too long and wanted attention, and he got it because Dean would be by his side and the crying would stop. It didn't work this time. He just kept on crying.

Dean was pacing around Asher’s nursery with the infant pressed against his shoulder. He had tried patting his back, rocking him, even tried to swaddle him up in his blanket burrito which Dean knows he loves, but none of it seemed to be working. Something must be wrong. Asher never gets this worked up. Maybe he was sick? Maybe this is some sort of angel thing that Dean had no idea about and something he couldn't fix? What if it was? What would Dean do?

The worst things were racing through Dean’s head faster than a tidal wave, he could feel himself getting just as worked up as Asher, only he has no idea how to help him. Asher’s cries were getting louder and more desperate by the minute, and Dean felt himself close to breaking into tears himself. “Hey, buddy. Shh… please stop crying…”

But Asher couldn’t. He was howling away, his fists gripped tight into Dean’s damp sleep shirt from his tears. If this didn't get any better he was going to have to call a doctor. This wasn't normal. But what if it was something non-human? How is Dean going to explain that? ‘Sorry, doc, but my son was born out of an angel birth’. That’s not gonna go down well.

Dean was just about to call out for Sam when he felt a strange sensation on his neck. Instead of crying, Asher had ducked his head down and began to chew on the seem of Dean’s shirt. That gave Dean pause. He had given Asher his pacifier and he only spat it out after a few seconds, but—

_Oh…_

Dean had a thought and he couldn't believe he did not think about it in the first place. Asher was an angel. He didn't have typical newborn needs, so when he did have some baby needs it was a surprise to the system. Dean repositioned Asher into the crook of his arm, trying his best not to panic at Asher’s resumed crying, but he had to test this out. He stuck in finger out to Asher’s bottom lip and, just like Dean thought, the baby clamped his mouth around the digit and sucked on it to his hearts content.

It was the most obvious, yet evasive, thing ever, and Dean felt like a complete idiot. Asher was hungry.

Dean would face palm himself if his hands were free.

But to be fair, this was the first time he has been hungry in over a week.

Remember? He’s an angel.

Without a second thought, Dean searched the kitchen for the bottles and formula. Thank God they didn't throw those away yet! That would be bad right now, but they were still in the cupboard from when Sam unpacked from the store. He didn't need to read the instructions. He still remembered the late night bottle feeds he had to do for Sammy when they were kids. Dad would be out on a hunt and Dean had to take care of baby Sammy, which was a lot for a four year old to take on, but he had to make sure Sam was all right. That was all that mattered.

But now he had Asher who needed him more, so when the bottle was finally ready, Dean placed it into Asher’s mouth and the little guy guzzled on it with an appetite worthy of a Winchester. The silence followed by Asher’ loud gulps were better than anything Dean could think of.

Asher only finished half of the bottle before he pushed out the bottle tip from his mouth. He was much calmer now, more like the baby Dean was used to. He laid the little guy over his shoulder and began to pat his back in rhythmic circles. Just as he had began to do that, Dean heard the echo of footsteps in the background. When he turned around, Dean saw Sam walking into the kitchen.

“I thought I heard voices,” Sam yawned, running a hand through his messy hair. “You calmed him down?”

Dean nodded. Sam had tried to help him when Asher was in the middle of his grumpy phase before the crying match, but he couldn’t figure out what was wrong either. “Turns out Asher does get hungry.”

Sam’s eyebrows rose. “It’s been over a week.”

“I know. Who would’ve thought I would have a kid who only needed feeding once a week?”

“Anybody who knows you,” Sam joked.

It was at that moment that Asher let out an impressive belch. The sound of it had Dean and Sam laughing loudly in the small room.

“Now that’s my boy,” Dean grinned with pride and pressed a kiss to the top of Asher’s downy head. The little guy grunted and gave Dean a kick in the chest, so he repositioned him back into the crook of his arm and Asher curled up into his side and got comfortable.

Dean was so caught up in watching the baby and rocking him gently to sleep that he didn't realise that Sam was watching him. When he did look up, his brother had a weird expression on his face, but it was gone before Dean could ask what was wrong. “Sam? Why are you up?”

Sam shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep. Went to check on Cas again.”

Dean paused his rocking and looked up at his brother. “And?”

“You were right. I think we have a reason to be worried.”

Dean sighed. It was just as he feared. “And have you spoken to Cas?”

Sam shook his head. “He won’t talk to me.”

Dean nodded. Of course he wouldn’t. Cas wasn't talking much.

It was nearly two weeks after the birth and even though Cas and Dean had made their arrangements over raising Asher and their co-parenting, but the thing is… Cas was a little off.

Dean would understand if it was with him, but it wasn’t. It was with Asher.

Maybe Dean should explain.

He wasn't sure when it had happened, but Dean thinks it was the first night they brought them home. Cas was still recovering from everything that had happened, but he seemed to be doing well enough. They were trying to make this co-parenting thing work, and Dean thought they were doing well enough in the scheme of things. Cas tended to Asher with just as much tenderness and love as any new parent would to their offspring, but then something began to change.

Dean thinks the first thing that happened was Cas growing more quiet with every day he spent with Asher. Dean could see it in the way he held him. There was a weird look in his eyes that didn't sit right with Dean, but he never said anything at first. It was the only thing that ate at Dean. He couldn't confront Cas over weird look. He didn't have the right to say anything to him like that. But then things got worse.

Sam didn't have much concerns when Dean told him his worries, but that was before last night. Sam saw something that made him change his mind. He was going to the store and he was trying to find Cas to see if he wanted anything, but he wasn't in his room like he said he was. He looked for him around the Bunker until he he stumbled upon him in Asher’s room, but he didn't go in straight away. He couldn't.

Because there Cas was, leaning over Asher’s crib while the little guy slept. Sam told Dean that he stood by the door. He didn't know why, but he sensed something was wrong just like Dean did. After a few seconds of waiting, Sam said he heard what he thought was crying coming from the room, but it wasn't coming from Asher. He knocked on the door, and Cas jumped away from the baby’s crib and wiped his eyes as fast as he could. He wouldn't talk about it after that, and Sam had no idea what just happened.

Sam didn’t, but Dean had an idea.

Dean did his research. He made sure he was prepared and… he was scared. Coming home to the Bunker was one of the highlights Dean had in the last few months, and he was there with Asher and Cas and Sam. He was finally home to his family and there was no way in hell that he was going to screw this up again.

So he read everything he got his hands on. Baby books, the Internet, even the moms at the park when the brothers took Asher out when they were sick of being cooped up all day. He had to admit, not all of it was relevant because Asher didn't need two hourly feeds, or diaper changes, or even colic remedies. Asher was literally a perfect baby, but the one thing the moms at the park constantly mentioned the most is the baby blues.

Dean looked that up immediately. Baby blues were pretty normal.

They were part of the changes to a mothers body after the birth. Things try to get back to normal, so everything goes haywire in the midst of it all and the mother experiences mood swings, fatigue, and sadness. The moms assured Dean that it was normal. But then there was the other thing to look out for. The postpartum depression.

It had been two weeks since the birth and baby blues are normal during that time, but if it carried on afterwards…

It would be bad. Really bad.

And Dean would understand why Cas would feel that way. What Cas went through giving birth to Asher… it would mess anyone up and coming back to life? There were so many things that Dean couldn't answer or understand about the days he lost, so to lessen the blow, Sam and Dean decided not to tell Cas everything that had happened. They decided to skip telling Cas that he was dead, just because he seemed to be struggling already, but… what the heck is he suppose to do now?

It’s not like things have been easy between Dean and Cas. Yes, they agreed on things, but there were still some issues to work through. They made a effort for Asher. They loved him, but Dean isn't the person Cas would reach out to, but there was definitely a problem if Cas wasn't reaching out to Sam. But even before they started their weird relationship they didn't really talk. They promised they wouldn't do that, but old habits die hard. It was easy to get back into a routine of not talking, but they were both guilty of that.

And obviously something has to change.

“Should we call a doctor?” Dean asked. “What if he’s got depression?”

“That’s a bit of a leap, don’t you think?” Sam said, taking a seat opposite Dean. “I’m worried about Cas too, but… Dean, we all had to adjust after everything that has happened. Cas more than most. I know you guys are getting back on track and I can see that, but I don’t think these are problems that will be fixed by visiting a doctor.”

Dean groaned at that. “Sam, I’m trying—”

“I know! I know, that’s not what I’m saying,” Sam clarified. “Look, you’re home. I’m happy about that. You’re bonding with your son. Awesome. But you and Cas haven't really talked about the problems that got you here in the first place. Think about it, Dean. Cas had a baby for you. The reason he carried on with the pregnancy was for you. You guys were a mess and he wanted to bring a child into the mix. You were both in the wrong. If you want to make things better, you guys really need to talk. Properly. Because this time it’s not just you and Cas now.”

Dean listened to Sam carefully the entire time and when he was done, Asher huddled in against Dean’s chest. He looked down, the side of Asher’s face was squashed up against his shirt, his mouth gumming at his little fist, completely oblivious from the world.

It was one of the most peaceful images he had ever seen. Dean can’t help but watch him as he sleeps at night. He doesn't even realise that he does that until he’s standing over his crib and exhaustion starts to weigh on his mind. But Asher in a deep sleep… he does the cutest things. When he frowns in his sleep and he looks like an old man. An old man Cas. Then he would yawn, his hair would get into a mess, and Dean would smooth it flat over his crown until Asher did it all over again in an unending cycle. And then in the mornings, Asher would have the worst case of bed head in the world, but Dean thought it was a style that worked on him.

Dean could spend hours watching Asher sleep if he could.

And he wants Cas to feel the same joy at watching their son.

Sam was right. They needed to talk. The sooner the better.

 

* * *

 

If he was going to talk to Cas, Dean was going to have to be drastic about it. And what caused them to be honest before?

He waited until he knew Cas was in the kitchen the very next morning to do this. He had Sam take care of Asher while he did this, and Sam agreed without question. The minute he knew things were ready, Dean made his move.

When he stepped into the kitchen, Dean found Cas rummaging through the cupboards that was very reminiscent form the last time they were in a situation like this. It was a shock to the system how long ago that felt to him, but he quickly shook it away and closed the door behind him, loud enough for Cas to know he wasn't alone.

The former angel turned around and he blinked at the hunter. “Dean?”

“Hey, Cas.”

“Are you all right?” Cas said, closing the cupboard door. “Is Asher okay?”

“He’s fine, but… Look, Cas, um… this is sort of an intervention.”

“An intervention?”

“Yeah,” Dean nodded. “Because we need to talk, and we need to do it before things get bad. I won’t let it get like it did last time.”

“And you think locking us in a room would be the best approach?”

“You can open that door anytime you want. I’m not gonna force you to talk, but you know we need to do this.”

Cas seemed caught off-guard by the approach, but he never made a move to the door. He stood still by the end of the room. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“I want you to say how you feel. Something’s bothering you, and I need you to tell me what it is.”

“How do you mean?” Cas asked.

“The way you are with Asher. You don’t seem yourself. Is there… are you feeling depressed?”

Cas seemed genuinely surprised by that question. “Dean, no. I’m not depressed.”

“Because it’s okay if you are,” Dean said in a rush. “I was reading online that many new mothers go through something called the ‘baby blues’ because their hormones are out of whack, and having a new baby is stressful and—”

“I’m not depressed, Dean.”

Cas was firmer that time and Dean sighed. “Okay, that’s good, but if you were you would tell me, right?”

“Of course I would.”

“So what’s wrong?” Dean asked.

“Dean, I am fine,” Cas tried to tell Dean, but he wasn't convinced. The hunter knew that Cas was a terrible liar, and he was lying to him now. Damn it. They weren't going to be able to do this easily, so Dean tried to think of something that will get Cas to open up. They were too stubborn. It was their habit to keep things locked up and hidden away, not matter — Then it hit him. He knew the perfect way of how to get Cas talking.

So he squared his shoulders and prepared himself for what he was about to get himself in for.

“Okay, Cas. Yell at me,” Dean said with surety.

Cas frowned at him. “Excuse me?”

“Yell at me,” Dean said again, but much louder so that Cas didn't have to ask twice. “Everything you are feeling. All the things you thought, how you feel, every single thing you hate about me — I want you to say it. I need to know, and I think you need to say it to get them off your chest so here is your chance. Go ahead, Cas.”

Cas began to shake his head and step away. “I can’t do that.”

“Yes, you can. I deserve it, Cas. You can say it all, come on. Say it. I won’t leave until you say it. Please. Say anything you want and I won’t judge you in the slightest. Go ahead.”

Cas was still unsure about all of this, but he seemed to be wracking his brains for anything to start off with. “I… I don’t understand your popular culture references?”

Dean paused. That was a pretty tame one. “Okay. That’s not exactly where I was going with this, but okay. What else?”

Cas took a moment to think of another one. “I… am puzzled by your love for an automobile. I understand it was your father’s, but your attachment to the car seems… strangely intimate.”

“Go again,” Dean demanded.

“Um, I hate that you snore.”

“I snore?”

“Very loudly.”

“I didn't know that.”

“I’m surprised Sam never told you,” Cas stated. “I hate that you constantly flirt with random women.”

“Yeah.”

“And I hate that you are so dependent on your brother.”

“Sam hates that too.”

“I hate that you are so relaxed about everything.”

Dean frowned at that. “What?”

“About Asher,” Cas said quickly, but he was nowhere near finished. “I hate that you can be so calm around him when all I feel is worry, and I hate that you get to be the better parent after you have been absent for months, and I hate that you can just walk back into our lives without a care in the world and act like everything is fine, and I just—”

Cas was getting more distressed the long he went, but he suddenly took a deep breath and his eyes began to water. Once he was calm enough, he grabbed a seat by the table and sat down. “I’m just tired of feeling this way.”

Dean was just as silent by the outburst, but not in the same way as Cas. He grabbed the free seat next to Cas and sat by his side. Nothing was said between them for a long time until Dean made the first move. “I can say sorry a thousand time, but I know I can never make things better.”

“I know you are trying,” Cas whispered. “And you are doing a good job. That’s the problem.”

“How?” Dean asked.

Cas took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, like he was about to confess to a deep secret. “He doesn't need me, Dean.”

“Of course he does, he’s a baby—”

“No, Dean, you don’t understand. He doesn't need me.”

Dean cocked his head to the side. “What do you mean?”

“I’m not an angel anymore,” Cas admitted. “I don't know if I will ever become an angel again, and Asher… he’s an angel. You don't understand how important it is for angels to be around other angels. They were my family and when I was separated from them there was a hollow ache in my chest that wouldn't go away. They did terrible things, but they were my family. And I’m worried… what if Asher feels that ache? What if he longs to be with his angel brethren? Maybe Metatron was right. Maybe Asher needs to be with other angels…”

Dean twisted his chair around until he was facing Cas dead on and made him look into his eyes. “Hey, Cas. Stop that. Stop those thoughts. Metatron was wrong. He tried to take your baby away. If he did, you might never have seen Asher again. Don’t let Metatron take that away from you.”

Cas rubbed his hands over his face. “I can’t help it. He might be an infant in your eyes, Dean, but he is more alert than other human babies. He knows more than you think he does. And as he grows, the angel in him will become more apparent. What will he do when he starts to fly?”

“He’s gonna fly?” Dean perked up.

Cas frowned at Dean like he was an idiot. “Of course, he’s an angel.”

“Now that’s awesome,” Dean smiled.

“I’m serious, Dean.”

“And so am I, Cas,” Dean pleaded. “Do you remember before the Apocalypse? You had blind faith in your father, even though you had never met him before. You grew up with your brothers and sisters in Heaven, but do you know what makes Asher more special than any of them? He has a mom. He has you. And you went through Hell just to bring him here. Would your brothers and sister have done that for you? Would God? Don’t sell yourself short.”

Cas shook his head. “It’s different.”

“How?” Dean asked.

“It just is.”

Dean took a deep breath. The next thing he was gonna say was risky in its self but he had to do it. “Okay, Cas. I’m gonna be honest because you need to hear this. Your family are assholes.”

“Excuse me?” Cas was affronted.

“They tried to kill you,” Dean said firmly to really drill this into Cas. “They almost did, and you’re worried about Asher wanting to be with them? That’s bull! I don’t care if you are not an angel anymore. Sam doesn’t care and I can guarantee that Asher does not care. He will need you. Human or angel. He will always need you. You know what it was like to be abandoned by your father. Don’t let Asher go through the same thing.”

Cas was quiet after that, but he kept his eyes focused on Dean. “Is that why you came back? So he wouldn't be abandoned?”

Dean took a moment to think about that question. He had to be completely honest to Cas now. No hiding. “Part of it. I told you I had a huge kick up the ass. One that I didn't know I needed at the time.”

The image of Cas dead on that table flashed through his eyes. White skin, cold hands, no pulse… Cas was here now, but it’s still an image that haunts Dean today. “Asher’s still a Winchester no matter if I stay or go. He’s still cursed, but he might have a better chance than me and my brother.” Dean took a deep breath. “If it helps, I’m not as carefree as you think I am. I’m terrified, Cas. I’ve seen what’s out there, anything could happen to him. He’s so oblivious to the world, the dangers, the bad guys and all I want to do is keep him protected in a little bubble away from prying eyes so that I know he’s safe. I don’t think he’ll appreciate that when he turns thirteen, though.”

Dean chuckled in an attempt to try and lighten the mood, but when he looked up Cas was staring at him with an odd expression. “You were sincere about those fears? I thought you were using that as an excuse to leave.”

“I wish dad had used it as an excuse to leave me and Sam. Our lives would've been so different if he let us have regular lives. Sam might have had the chance of his own apple pie life and had babies of his own, or become the lawyer he always wanted. Me? I have no idea what my life would’ve been like if I wasn't a hunter. The closest I could come to normality was a djinn dream. How messed up is that?”

Cas was surprisingly sympathetic. “I know I told you that I have no expectations for you, but I’m still worried. You’re really good with Asher. I don’t want him to become attached for you to leave again.”

“I won’t leave again, Cas. I wish I can make you believe that.”

“I know,” Cas sighed. “I’m sorry, Dean.”

Dean looked up at Cas like he had grown two heads. “Shouldn’t I be saying that to you?”

“I had a part to play in this situation. It wasn't all you. You were just being honest about your feelings, and I wasn't honest about mine. We are both to blame. I should've let you talk the minute you came into my room after the night we had intercourse. I just didn't want to hear it.”

“I thought you hated me for what I did,” Dean confessed.

“I’ve done a lot worse. And when you were gone, when Sam took me to all the doctors appointments, I realised that you were more understanding than most people I have encountered. I am a few millennia older than you, Dean. I am not as innocent as you portray me to be. When I first met Sam, I only saw him as the boy with the demon blood in him. I didn't trust him for that. And it took me a long time to accept him. I am guilty of my own prejudice. Everyone is.”

Dean shook his head. “That doesn't make what I did okay.”

“No,” Cas agreed. “But forgiveness does. And if we can get past all that has happened then maybe we can get there. Just maybe.”

“What can I do to get there?” Dean asked desperately.

Cas shrugged. “I don’t know. But I know that you are trying.”

Dean nodded. This was something, even if he didn't know what it was. They sat in silence again for a long while, maybe in shock at how much they had actually said to one another, but who knows? They got here, and that was what mattered, and if they wanted to keep going forward, they both had to work at it.

And that was when Dean took further action. “You know what? I have an idea. Go get Sam and Asher. We’re going out for breakfast.”

“Breakfast?” Cas frowned.

“Yep,” Dean smiled and grabbed the jacket he left on the chair last night and shucked it on. “I know this great little place that has the best coffee in town…”

 

* * *

 

Dean had spent enough time on this diner a while back to remember the details, and it had not changed one bit. The door still squeaked, the tiles swill needed a good scrubbing and there was a waitress brewing a fresh pot of coffee behind the counter. God, he had not seen her in a long time.

“You miss me, Wendy?” Dean called out.

Wendy the waitress turned around at the call of her name, and she beamed at the sight of the hunter standing by the door. “Dean! Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes! Where the hell have you been, honey?”

“Life got… very busy,” Dean’s eyes darted down to Asher in his car seat, playing with the tiny stuffed elephant Sam had packed in for him.

Cas was standing by Dean’s side the moment they walked in and he was watching the display with both confusion and interest.

Wendy instantly cooed at the baby and moved away from he counter to get a closer look. “Oh my goodness! Look at him. He’s so adorable! Why didn't you tell me about him?”

“It’s a long story,” Dean said. Sam was busy parking the car, but he could see through the window that he was about to walk in. “You got a free table for four?”

“Follow me, boys.”

There was a free table by the window that seemed like the perfect place. Wendy brought them to their seats. Dean made a conscious effort to sit next to Sam, so that Cas was next to Asher in his car seat. Cas didn't seem to notice the set up. He just took his seat without question, taking a glance inside to see if Asher was all right.

They had ordered their drinks and meals by then and were just chatting away to pass the time. Dean had his eyes on Asher to make sure he was okay, but he was wriggling away in his seat with his toy elephant to keep him company. He didn't mind though. He was content as can be.

Asher was chewing on the soft trunk when Wendy came back with their orders. “Here you go. And how is the cutie-pie? How old is he?”

“Almost two weeks,” Dean said.

“Two weeks? Aww, I remember when my babies were that small. Such a long time ago, but I still call them my babies. Where’s this cute honey’s mama today?”

“I’m his mother,” Cas announced. “Or father. Whatever is the appropriate title.”

“I know when it comes to adopting it can be confusing what to be called—”

“No, Wendy,” Dean interrupted. “Asher’s not adopted. He’s biologically ours. Cas is Asher’s mom. Or dad. Whatever title he wants to be called.”

Wendy was surprised by that. “Oh. Okay. Well, I gotta say, boys, he is the most well behaved baby I have ever seen. The way he stares at you… it’s almost like he can read your mind.”

“Yeah, that’s Asher for you. Cute as a button,” Dean said with a smile.

When Wendy was out o hearings distance, Sam leaned in close to Cas and whispered: “He can’t actually read minds, can he?”

Cas frowned. “No, Sam. Angels can not read minds.”

“Just checking,” Sam said. Dean gave Sam a sly glance. What have you been thinking of, Sammy? “What exactly can he do?”

“He can fly, Sammy!” Dean gushed.

“Really?” Sam asked.

“Not yet. Asher is still grasping his physical form, but when he is old enough he will have strength in his wings and he will have the ability to fly.”

Sam looked impressed. “How are we going to keep an eye on him when he finds his wings?”

A worried look crossed his eyes. “I do not know.”

“We’ll think of something. We just… gotta find a way,” Dean leaned in to Asher in his car seat. “Won’t we, buddy? You gonna be a troublemaker like your dad?”

Asher wriggled in his seat and sneezed. That was enough of an answer that he could give.

“Then the whole world is in trouble again,” Sam chuckled.

“Hey!” Dean protested.

“Oh, come one! You were a nightmare. Even dad thought so. You disappeared more nights than we saw you.”

“Okay, for one, that was one week when we were in Minnesota and I was being Cindy, remember her? And two, I wasn’t as bad as he made me out to be.”

“And the time you stole from the liquor store?” Sam countered.

“I always steal from the liquor store!” Dean said.

“Exactly! You are still a nightmare.”

“Nah, you’re just a prude,” and the brothers giggled. When Dean turned to look over at Cas to see his reaction, but his smile fell. There was a strange expression on Cas’ face as he looked down on Asher, and Dean instantly began to panic. “Cas, what’s wrong?”

Cas seemed incapable of speech for a moment, but he was able to there in the end. “Dean, Asher just smiled.”

Dean nearly freaked out of his seat. “What?”

“He smiled.”

“Cas, it wasn't a smile,” Sam explained. “Babies don’t smile until….”

But then at that moment, Dean saw it. Asher’s hands on his toy elephant and a beaming smile spread across his face.

“I take that back, that was a smile!”

“Let me see, let me see!” Dean said, leaning in closer. They must have looked like idiots crowding into the car seat, but it was worth it when Asher began to kick his legs and grin at the floating faces in his personal space. Other babies would be freaked out by this, but not Asher. Not his boy. He was smiling away like it was the funniest thing in the world. “That’s a smile. Can you see that? He’s smiling!”

“But he’s too young. He’s not suppose to smile for another four weeks,” Sam had to get technical on this.

“Angel, remember? You can’t blame this one on gas,” Dean said with pure happiness. “What did you do to make him smile, Cas?”

“I don’t know,” Cas admitted, a little stunned. “I was making sure he was comfortable and he… I didn't do anything.”

In the state of his joy, Dean didn't see the shock on Cas’s face. He genuinely seemed surprised by Asher’s reaction to him, and he didn't know how to respond to that.

After all that Cas had been feeling these past few days, Dean guessed Cas needed that more than he realised.

“His first smile was at you, Cas. That wasn't an accident.”

Cas looked over at Dean for a quick moment, but then back at Asher. The baby was fidgeting away and staring up at Cas the whole time, but he never stopped smiling the whole time. Taking a chance, Cas offered his hand to Asher, and the baby’s greedy fists dropped his elephant toy on his side and grabbed his mother’s fingers in his tiny palms.

Dean smiled to himself, and the rest of the morning went by without a hitch.

 

* * *

 

Later that night, Dean went to check on Asher, but he didn't need to.

Cas was already with him, baby in his arms and looking like he was trying to figure out how to rock him in a steady rhythm that will get him off to sleep. It was so clumsy and so awkward, very reminiscent of Cas in his unsure self, but Dean didn't want to interfere. No. Cas needs this. He needed the learning curve to help him bond with Asher just a little bit more to get rid of those doubts, and he was rewarded in the end.

Asher was sucking on his pacifier, cheek pressed up to Cas’ chest and trying to fight off the sleep weighing down his eyelids, but Cas never stopped his rocking motion. Even when Asher was finally fast asleep in his arms, Cas never stopped his rocking motion. He did not put him down, and from what Dean could see from his view by the nursery door, he didn't think Cas wanted to.

By the time Dean tiptoed off to bed, he went to sleep peaceful.

 

* * *

 

Dean woke up the next morning feeling more refreshed than ever, and when he went down to the kitchen for breakfast, Cas was already in the library with Asher in his arms and an empty plate on the table. It was already early as it was, did Cas even go to bed? Judging by his eyes, Dean didn't think so, but when you got a cutie like Asher to watch at night, who could blame him?

“Mornin’,” Dean yawned.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas replied.

“How’re you feeling?” Dean asked Cas.

Dean was asking more in that question then he led on and Cas knew it. He looked down at the still sleeping baby in his arms and nodded. “Better.”

“Good,” Dean smiled, relieved. He leaned down to give Asher a light kiss on the head. The little guy didn't make a peep, other than a deep exhale, but he was still out cold. Dean was just about to head down to the kitchen when the front door to the Bunker creaked open,

And the sight had him doing a double take.

Sam was carrying a comically large box down the stairs, so much so that Sam had to go sideways just to see where he was going. It was decorated in boobs and… other things. Things that were making Dean wish he could take Asher to another room so that he wouldn't see this monstrosity.

“What the hell is that?!” Dean asked.

“Don’t look at me!” Sam protested. “I didn't order this!”

“It wasn't me! Cas?”

Cas twisted in his seat to see what was going on. “What are you talking about — oh my!”

_Oh my indeed._ “You didn't order this, did you, Cas?”

“No, it is… highly inappropriate.”

Dean didn't protest when Cas put a hand over Asher’s still closed eyes. He probably would've don't the same thing.

Sam had finally reached the end and dropped the heavy box onto the floor with a loud huff. “So if it wasn't us then who the hell sent this?”

“Wrong address?” Dean offered.

Sam shook his head. “I tried that. Delivery guy was pretty adamant. He kept telling me it was the biggest order he had shipped out. There were two cards with it, as well.”

Sam rummaged his pockets to grab out two white envelopes that only had two things written on them. Numbers one and two on them separately. Sam went and ripped open envelope number one and all it was was a card. When Sam read what was on it, he frowned in confusion.

“What does it say?” Dean asked.

“Trench coat,” Sam said.

“What?”

“That’s all it says. Trench coat.”

“That’s weird,” Dean said. “Cas, do you know what that means?”

“No,” Cas shook his head, but then he seems to realise something. “Actually, I have a question. Dean, when did I obtain two trench coats?”

That caught Dean by surprise. “Two? Did you buy a spare one?”

“No. I’ve always kept the original one,” Cas replied.

“What about the time you forgot it at the hospital?”

Now Cas really looked confused. “Forgot it? When did I forget it?”

“Well, I picked one up when you left it at Brag’s office—”

“Brag? Dr. Brag?” Cas interrupted.

“Yeah, him.”

“Why would Dr. Brag have my coat?”

“He told me you left it there when you had a doctors appointment. Don’t you remember?”

Cas was staring at Dean in absolute confusion, but Dean had no idea what the hell was going on so if Cas could calorie things, then that would be great. “Dean, I haven’t spoken to Dr. Brag since that night we went to the ER. I haven't seen him since.”

Dean stilled. The night at the ER? When they feared Cas had miscarried? But… Brag had said…

What he told him…

He lied. What he said about seeing Cas… he lied!

_’Cause if you’re just gonna stay on the side lines for when you do figure it out… you might as well just walk away._

What the fuck?

_What the actual fuck?_

Dean was close to losing his head for a moment. “Wait, that doesn't make sense because if he hasn't seen you then how does he—”

“Oh, my God,” Sam’s voice broke through.

Dean turned to see what it was that caught Sam’s attention, and he was staring into the box, which he must have opened when Dean and Cas were talking, and he was staring into the contents of it like it was any other monster they would hunt. “What is it, Sam? Please tell me it’s not Gwyneth Paltrow’s head.”

“Nope. It’s worse.”

Then Sam’s hand dug into the box and grabbed a handful of what was inside. It was light, it sounded papery and when Sam liked it up, they were multi-coloured and fell back into the box like—

Oh fuck.

Candy wrappers.

Lots and lots of candy wrappers.

Oh crap.

Candy wrappers, mentions of absent fathers, the attitude—

_Oh crap…_

“Sam, what was Dr. Brag’s full name again?”

“Um, I think it was Eli. Eli Brag.”

Eli Brag. Dean should’ve guessed.

Dean took the crumpled remains of the white envelope and a spare pen that was left on the table jotted down the name. He stared at the letters, jumbled them up and when he saw what he found, he felt like even more of an idiot for not realising.

“What is it?” Cas asked.

Dean picked up the envelope and showed it to Cas. He took it without question and read what Dean had written and he was just as surprised as the other brothers were. He showed it to Sam, who only nodded at what he already guessed.

_Eli Brag._

_iel gabr_

_Gabriel._

“That sneaky son of a bitch,” Dean growled.

“Gabriel was Brag the whole time?” Cas asked.

“Looks like it,” Sam fumed. “But he was dead, how did he… you know what? Never mind. How did we miss this?”

_Helloooo, Trickster._

You think they would've learned by now.

But it wasn't enough for Cas. “But why? This is not Gabriel’s usual behaviour. Why would he impersonate a doctor?”

“To get to you,” Sam guessed.

Cas took a shot with that assumption. “With Metatron?”

“I have no idea,” Dean said, but he had a growing feeling in his gut. That voice that saved him. Could it have— “Wait! What does the other card say?”

“Oh, yeah!” Sam remembered. He fished out envelope number two and ripped that open. His eyes ran over the few lines on the letter and when he was done, he handed it over to Cas.

Cas didn’t seem too sure about taking it, but he reached out and took the letter and read over what was written. Dean went over to Cas’ side and peered over his shoulder and read what he could see.

_You know, after saving both your lives and all, shouldn't you be owing me a few favours? That’s alright. I promised I would take care of you, didn’t I, Cas?_

_I’ve lost enough brothers over the years. It’s kind of nice to bring a new one in to the world._

_Maybe we’ll talk again sometime._

_But for now, adios!_

_The Trickster xxx_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I told you the clue was in the name.
> 
> Was it good? My head was hurting after writing this.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait but life has been crazy. I've been stuck on how to progress with this, but I was able to find something... I think? I'm not sure. Anyhow, I hope you like it.

Dean wasn't sure what woke him up. He had been exhausted when he went to bed, and he was out like a light by the time his head hit the pillow, and he was certain he would be asleep until morning. That wasn't the case.

Dean opened his eyes against the dark room. He grabbed for his phone blindly, and when he felt it in his palm the screen light was like a shot of pain for his eyes. That was a big mistake, but he found out it was four in the morning. It took a few minutes for his brain to process what was happening. He was a little sluggish when it came to waking up before he had enough sleep, but he couldn't bring himself to fall back to sleep. It took another minute for Dean to realise what was happening and he was up in wide awake the moment he realised something.

It wasn't a sound or anything that woke him up. It was quiet. That was the problem.

Dean reached out for the baby monitor he had on his bedside table. That’s not good. There should be a small red light on the gadget to signal that it was on, but there wasn't one now. Dean was certain he turned it on before he went to bed. No wonder it was silent. Dean was used to hearing Asher babbling away on the other end at certain times at night, or even his heavy breathing when he was deep asleep. Dean fiddled with the monitor to find the on switch and flicked it up when he found it. He was met with the comforting sound of Asher happily cooing away in his own nursery and Dean gave a sleepy smile at the sound.

But then he froze.

There was another voice with Asher. One that he knew wasn't Sam or Cas.

Someone else was in Asher’s nursery.

Dean was out of bed like a light. He tiptoed out of his room and down the hall leading up to Asher’s nursery. He had his gun hidden away in his sweats pocket and when he was by the baby’s door, Dean took it out and had it ready. He was right to be worried. He could hear the voice drifting from the door open slightly ajar. They were getting louder with every step he got to the door, but Dean paused when he also heard Asher’s babbling replies in the process. He didn't seem to be in danger, but when Dean reached the door, the conversation was clearer, the voice more distinctive.

“And let me tell you a thing or two about the Norse idiots,” the voice chattered away. He was speaking in a hushed tone that failed to hide his enthusiasm over his own storytelling. “You do not want to get on the wrong side of those Gods. Especially Thor. He can be a a right Prima-donna in the muscle department, but he won’t let anything get in the way of he and his beloved hammer, if you know what I mean. I had to disguise myself as a busty beauty to help him get his hammer back, but seeing him in a bridal gown was totally worth the stares from the blue balled frost giants…”

Dean lowered the gun. He knew who that voice was. He pushed the door open and his suspicions were confirmed.

The archangel was leaning over Asher’s crib and making faces at the little guy that had Asher smiling and kicking away in joy and happiness. He kept making these huffs that Dean assumed were his attempts at a laugh. He may be developing fast, but he wasn't ready to laugh yet. Dean can’t wait for that day. It will be awesome.

But that doesn't explain why an archangel was hanging out in his son’s nursery, though. But then, this is Gabriel they were talking about.

Dean put his gun into the back of his sweats and stepped into view. “Hello, Gabriel.”

Gabriel didn't even react to Dean’s presence, like he knew he was already there. “Shhh… baby’s sleeping,” Gabriel whispered. Asher responded with a strong kick of his legs in his crib. “He’s not sleeping, but I like it better when I can’t hear you.”

“Thanks,” Dean muttered. “What are you doing here?”

Gabriel put on an affronted look. “Can’t an uncle come down and visit his nephew?”

“Uncle? I thought all angels are brothers or sisters?” Dean asked.

“Some of us are, but it’s more of a distant family,” Gabriel began to explain. “We know we are related, but it’s impossible to remember every single member of the angel family, but we are still family. We will protect each other because of familial obligation. It’s not like the relationship between you and Sam, with memory and bonding. It was different between me, Michael and Lucifer. We were the first of the angel race. All we had were each other. Do you understand?”

Dean wasn't sure, but he has the gist of it. “I think…”

Gabriel just shrug at his reply. “It doesn't matter now. Most of them are gone, anyway.”

“What about the others? The ones who didn’t… you know.”

_The ones who didn't let Cas die in front of their eyes._

“Oh, them!” Gabriel remembered. “It might be a surprise to you Winchester boys, but some of the angels have actually settled into human domestic life. They’re taking care of their vessels kids, having fun, paying the mortgage. They like the peaceful life. There was one angel I bumped into, Abner his name was and he took over an abusive man’s vessel and he is as happy as can be. It’s almost sickening how… _domestic_ the whole thing is.”

Gabriel shuddered at the memory of this Abner he was speaking of, but Dean didn't want to focus on that now. He had to many questions for the archangel and he wasn't going to waste a minute of it. “What have you been doing all this time? We thought you were dead.”

“Duh, that’s what I wanted. Can’t I just have a little time to myself? All I wanted was some fun, and I was having fun. Went back to Scandinavia for a bit, hung out with the old gang, came back to the States to go back to pranking, but then you guys had to screw up Heaven. Again.”

“We didn't mean to,” Dean argued.

“I’ll be dreading the day you guys intentionally mean to do something,” Gabriel rolled his eyes and looked down at Asher in his crib. “Trust me, little guy, you are gonna have a hard time with this Motley Crew.”

Asher grunted.

“Exactly,” Gabriel smiled.

Dean shook his head at the weird image of Gabriel being… well, nice. Asher seemed to like him, but all he had was baby talk to go by. For all he knew, Asher could be giving Gabriel the middle finger and smiling about it. But then he remembered something else. “Were you him this whole time? Dr Brag? Were you always him?”

Gabriel chuckled. “Dr. Brag is as real as Narnia and Hogwarts. Did you really think I would miss the fact you and Cas have been getting down and jiggy in the sheets? Please. You had to be blind to not see it. I didn’t think much of it at the time, I thought good on for Cassie boy. But then I felt this little guy’s conception.”

“Wait, felt? You felt his conception?”

“We’ve never had a baby like this one. Castiel might have been an angel, but he was human when he conceived. He’s the angel born of human parents. You will be surprised how little that happens to us.”

“But disguising yourself as a doctor?” Dean pushed.

Gabriel huffed. “Please, I disguised myself as a demigod. Playing doctor? That’s child’s play. I wanted to get a first hand check on how things were going. I wanted to make sure he was okay.”

Dean shook his head. “And why do you care?”

Gabriel shrugged. “I already told you.”

_I’ve lost enough brothers…_

And Dean felt stupid for asking that question.

“So who were you watching out for? Was it for Cas or for Asher?”

“Ah, the fortunate and blessed,” Gabriel mused and gave a quick smile to Asher. “Cute name. Does it really matter who it was for? Besides, I don’t think that is the question you really want to ask.”

Ah, that. Gabriel must have sensed Dean’s tensing anxiety at the progression of this conversation and the only thing his mind could think about was the day this all happened. The day in the hospital. “You mean what you said to me before I left? What was all that about?”

Gabriel spent a moment thinking about that question. “Friendly intervention?”

“Gabriel!”

“Oh, come on! What was I suppose to do? You were being an ass. I just put you in a situation where you would have to make a decision.”

“You had no idea what was going on,” Dean hissed.

“I knew more than you realise,” Gabriel argued.

“Like what?”

“Here’s the thing about playing doctor, people will tell you their deepest, darkest secrets just to make themselves feel better. Cas mentioned a few things and so I decided to stick around for a bit.”

“But what you said in the hospital, when you called…”

“Oh, you remember that?”

Dean was this close to losing it, but he wasn't going to lose his cool around Asher. “Damn it, Gabriel—”

“What?” the archangel shrugged. “I didn't do anything wrong. That was pretty tame in my books.”

Yeah, Dean knows what he can do, but he didn't want to dwell on that. To calm himself down, he took a deep breath and sighed. “Just… why?”

“I don’t get why you’re mad. It wasn't that bad. I just gave you an opportunity to make a choice and you did. You were lucky I didn't do anything worse.”

“Didn’t do anything worse — You told me to leave!” Dean said.

“No, I told you to make a decision and then you left. There is a huge difference.”

Dean has had enough of this shit. “Damn it, Gabriel! Why am I the only bad guy here? Yes, I did some terrible things, but I wasn't the only person in this mess. Cas never said _anything_! How was I supposed to know what was going through his head the whole time? I’m not a mind reader.”

“I know. And if I’m being honest, you are both in the wrong here.”

That caught Dean off guard. “What?”

Gabriel sighed. “Castiel isn't a wilting flower. He was one of Heaven’s finest soldiers, remember? He’s not one to freak out over the smallest thing. From what I saw, the adoption was his idea. Yeah, you did the worst, but Cas was just as guilty. He kept his pregnancy when he was certain he didn't want Asher and especially when you didn't want him. It was his way of trying to keep you around, and he’s done just the same amount of not talking about your problems. Sam was the one who had to give you the kick in the ass to get things going.”

“So why did I get the third degree?”

“Because it was a kick in the ass you _both_ needed,” Gabriel emphasised.

This is not making any sense to Dean. “And that is suppose to be okay? If I had stayed, maybe Metatron never would've taken Cas in the first place. If I had stayed, maybe I would've been able to protect him from dying!”

Gabriel seemed uninterested. “You sure about that?”

“I wouldn’t let Metatron—”

“No,” Gabriel interrupted. “Are you sure about the dying part?”

“What are you—”

And Dean froze.

Why would Gabriel offer something like that if it wasn't important? He wouldn’t. If Dean knew Gabriel then he would know that Gabriel never did anything by accident. Well, maybe except for the strawberry syrup, but you know what he means. So why would Gabriel mention this?

Gabriel was a Trickster. He could make anything out of nothing. He could make anyone see anything he wanted them to.

Even if it felt real.

“Wait…” Dean stuttered. “That was a trick?”

Images of Cas’ cold corpse flashed in Dean’s mind and he knew what the answer was.

“Cas dying was a trick?”

And when Gabriel didn't answer straight away, it was all Dean needed for an answer. “Well, since you say it like that… What was I suppose to do?”

“You heartless son of a bitch—”

“Oh, shut up. I did you a favour,” Gabriel interrupted.

“We thought Cas was dead—”

“And look what you have now,” Gabriel said, pointing to Asher in his crib. “I don’t get why you’re mad at me. I thought deep down in that hollow pit of your soul that this was what you wanted.”

“Yeah, it is, but — Wait, how did you know what I wanted. The only person I told was — Oh, no. Don’t tell me you’re—”

And before Dean could finish that sentence, Gabriel began to morph into a new shape in front of him. His clothes and shoes were still the same, but this time he was sporting the head of the older, grey haired man, who had told him stories about Cher.

“Oh, Stewie…” Dean groaned.

The face of Stu smiled back at him. “Anybody body tell ya that gambling is a serious problem to have? ”

“Oh man… I liked him.”

“And my other favourite,” Gabriel added, and soon his face began to morph again and Stu’s features bled away to those of the friendly woman he grew to know in the diner.

“No, not Wendy too! They never existed?”

“Sorry, Winchester,” Gabriel said in Wendy’s voice. It was freaky.

“But I always gave her a large tip.”

“And she greatly appreciates it,” Gabriel smiled and his selfish mug was back on his face. Bastard.

But Dean pushed that over to the side. “What do you want, Gabriel? Am I just a pawn to you? What do you want?”

This was the first time Dean had ever seen Gabriel look serious during their entire conversation. “I wasn't sure at first. I thought I would have some fun, mess with your head a little, but then I saw that your head was already so screwed up, it wasn't funny anymore. Then I saw how it was affecting Castiel and Sam, and I thought I should do something about it. I thought it would be easier for you to just leave and let Cassie get on with his life. But I didn't know what Metatron was planning…”

“You genuinely didn't know?” Dean asked.

Gabriel gave Dean a dirty glare. “You think I would let that happen? It was a miracle Castiel survived that botched birth in the first place. I healed him up as much as I could, but I didn't want to alert everyone to the fact I was here, so I let him heal mostly on his own and the rest was done there.”

“But why did you make us think he was dead?”

“To make you open your eyes. I wanted to see how you would react. Maybe get your feelings for him out in the open.”

It was Dean’s turn to glare at Gabriel. He made it sound like it was just a game. “And did I pass your test?”

“How did you think you got out of Heaven?”

Heaven? Wait. The voice! “So that was you?”

“Yeah,” Gabriel said and then made a face. “Don’t make it a usual thing. That was a one time offer. That’s it. If it wasn't for me, you would be dust on the crystal floors of Heaven’s gate.”

“Um… thank you?” _What was the protocol for this situation?_

“Don’t mention it,” Gabriel shrugged.

“So what now? Why reveal yourself?”

“There was something else I wanted to say before I make my next departure.”

Dean narrowed his eyes. “Where are you going?”

“Where I’ve been before. Nobody else knows I’m here, and I would prefer to keep it that way. But before I go, there is one thing I wanted to say: I gave you a second chance at this life, Dean Winchester. Don’t screw it up.”

“I won’t,” Dean answered with sincerity.

Gabriel gave him a curt nod. “Good. Now adios, boys.”

And Gabriel was gone from the room, like there was no sign he was ever here in the first place. Dean wasn't too surprised. It wouldn't be Gabriel’s style if that was the case. In the end, Dean went over to Asher’s crib and picked up the baby and rested him against his chest.

There was a rocking chair in the corner of the nursery and he took a seat. The rocker let him ease back a moment, but he was sitting stationary again and he brought Asher closer to his chest and watched as the baby stretched out in Dean’s arms until he was comfortable. His cheek was pressed over Dean’s heart, and it wasn't long until the steady heart beat had Asher lulling off to sleep in less than five minutes, with Dean’s hand rubbing his back.

Dean doesn't know how long he stayed like this with Asher, but it must have been awhile because the next thing he knew Cas was walking into the nursery in his pjs and yawning away until he spotted father and son in the rocking chair. “Dean?”

“Morning, Cas,” Dean muttered.

Cas stepped in closer and leaned over to watch Asher. “Is he okay?”

“Yeah, he’s fine. Just had an excitable night.”

Cas gave Dean an odd look, but he shrugged it off. He reached out for Asher and Dean handed him over without hesitation. Asher merely grunted at the change of hands, but he quickly cuddled into Cas’ warmth, with Cas’ hand stroking his dark hair.

Dean couldn't help but smile at the two of them. It was a sweet image of the former angel and the baby, now that Cas was bonding more with Asher after their little talk in the kitchen. It was just the push he needed to get him to open up and it was working wonders. All those old fears he had before were gone in an instant, and Cas was taking care of Asher like one of the best mom’s in the world. He was surprised how easy it came to Cas, you know, with him being an angel and all, but Dean was grateful for the kick of motherly instinct. It was a good look on Cas.

But it made Dean wonder. Those things that Gabriel said, about him him keeping Asher… Dean doesn't think he could relax until he knew. “Cas? When you were pregnant with Asher… did you keep him because of me?”

Cas looked up from Asher and up to Dean. He seemed to take a moment to think about that question, but he dropped his gaze down to Asher in his arms and ran a thumb over his downy head. “Yes.”

Dean was surprised about the honesty Cas’ voice. “Why?”

“I thought it was what you wanted. But when you were gone I had time to think about what happened and I realised you never actually told me you wanted children. You never told me what you wanted, I never told you what I wanted either, in that fact. I was a bit selfish in my decision making.”

“Why do you think that?” Dean asked.

Cas took a deep sigh and ready to confess. “I feel guilty for saying this now, but… I genuinely didn't want him. When I discovered his conception, I genuinely did not want to continue with the pregnancy, but I did it thinking it would make you happy. But I never asked if it would make you happy. All I would've accomplished is bringing another person into our problems.”

“But you don’t feel that way now, though? Right?” Dean asked nervously.

Cas hugged Asher closer to him. “No, I don’t feel that way anymore. I don’t want to admit this but if it wasn't for that potential miscarriage then I don't think my feelings would've changed that much.”

“I’m sorry I put you through that.”

Cas shook his head. “It wasn't your fault.”

“But it was,” Dean said, getting up from the rocking chair. “We should've said something. We never… why didn't we ever talk? We could've avoided so many problems.”

Cas shrugged. “Possibly. We don’t know. There’s no point in thinking about the ‘what ifs’ now.”

Dean nodded. “I know we had some bad times, Cas, but some of it was good, wasn’t it? The times we were together, it wasn't all… bad?”

Cas gave Dean an odd look. “No. No, it wasn’t.”

“You sure? I never wanted to force you to do something you never wanted to—”

“Dean,” Cas interrupted. “You didn't make me do anything I didn't want to do. Why are you asking about this? Has something happened?”

“Cas, um…” Dean didn't know what to say. He didn't want to mention Gabriel. He didn't want to tell him about the details of their conversation. Not yet, anyway. But they will talk about it. That was what got them in this mess before was not talking about anything. They can’t do that anymore. Not when they have Asher to care for. He was only a baby, but Dean didn't want him to see how badly they navigated their relationship, even if it did create the babe in Cas’ arms right now. He deserved better than that. He and Cas both did.

_I gave you a second chance at this life, Dean Winchester. Don’t screw it up._

No, he won’t.

Okay. Cards on the table.

Time to be honest.

“If I had a second chance to change the way these past few months have been, the only thing I would change would be the way I treated you.”

Cas gave Dean a bewildered look. “Um, I appreciate the sincerity, but I’m at peace with it.”

“But I’m not, Cas. I’m not at peace with what I did. I ran out when you needed me the most. I freaked out. I was just thinking about my own feelings, to yours—”

“Dean,” Cas said firmly and cutting Dean off completely. “I have told you already on countless occasions; I’m okay. What’s going on with you?”

“I just want to go back to the way we used to be,” Dean admitted. “We were great. There was no problems then.”

“Yes, there were,” Cas contradicted.

“Okay, maybe there were, but they weren't as — that’s not the point,” Dean rushed. “We can be friends again, right? We can be better?”

“Yes, I believe so,” Cas said, even though he was still confused.

“Good, and, um,” Dean took a moment to think about how to phrase this next part. Take the leap. “And maybe… maybe we could… be more than friends?”

And the moment those words left Dean’s mouth, Cas’ reaction was instant. His eyes widened at the suggestion and he shifted uncomfortably on his feet. “Dean, that’s not a good idea.”

The hunter nodded. “I know it was a stretch—”

“After everything you said…”

“I was an ass, I know—”

“And you leaving…”

“I will never forgive myself for that—”

“Are you saying this because of Asher?”

“Of course not, I—”

“Then what changed?”

That question gave Dean pause because he knew the answer to that. He would answer Cas honestly, but Dean hadn't spoken to Sam about how they were going to tell Cas about his trip with death. Yeah, Dean knows Gabriel tricked him now, but it was real to Dean. The loss of Cas felt real, how could he just dismiss it as a malicious trick? He can’t. To him, Cas’ death happened, no matter how many times people would argue with him. It doesn't change what it did to him.

And if he was going to be honest, he would have to tell Cas what really happened.

“Losing you.”

Cas cocked his head to the side. “I don’t understand.”

Dean took a deep breath. “When you were in the hospital, after the birth… You died, Cas. Me and Sam didn't want to tell you, but… you were dead.”

The only response he got from Cas was a shocked stare and silence, until he finally broke it. “How long?”

“I think it was hours. Sam could tell you the rest, but…”

“Metatron?” Cas guessed.

Dean nodded.

“What happened?”

Like he said before, it didn't matter that he knew it was all a trick. The images of Cas dead were still going to haunt him. “I saw you. I saw you lying on the slab after the surgery. You’d lost a lot of blood, and your skin was paper white, there were these tubes everywhere… you were dead, Cas. You died. I thought I had lost you forever and… I had to lose you to make me realise what I had. But I just found something else about that night and—”

“I don’t want to know,” Cas shook his head and clutched onto Asher a little tighter. He seemed to take a moment to compose himself, resting his cheek on Asher’s head and rubbing a hand down his back. It appears to be working. Just a simple confirmation that his son was with him, safe and sound was enough to relax him. “I don’t want to know.”

“Are you okay?” Dean asked. Cas was looking a little rattled.

“Yes, I’m fine,” Dean didn't seem convinced, but he didn't want to push. Cas would tell him when he’s ready. “I’m fine.”

But Dean didn't believe him.

He recognised that face. He had seen it many times during the early days of them sleeping together. Dean would see it when Cas was on the verge of saying something but was shot down every time. This wasn't the point of this talk. He was suppose to be making things better, not force Cas into a corner and accept it. That’s not how this was suppose to go…

Damn it. Dean was not doing it right. How was he suppose to do this? He’s putting himself out there. He’s trying to make an effort and all he is doing is putting Cas in the corner again—

Oh.

_Oh…_

Maybe that’s the issue.

Dean was forcing too much on Cas. Maybe it should be the other way around.

Why didn't he think of this sooner? This should be what Cas wanted. At his own pace.

Dean can do that. He can let Cas go at his own pace.

It’s time to go at his own pace.

“No, you’re not. I know you’re not fine,” Dean said. “I get it. You have been through so much, and the last thing I want to do is add to your problems. So I won’t push you. You can take your time, do what you want to do without anymore hassle on your back. But… but if something changes, and I know I am asking for way too much, but if you ever change your mind, I’ll be waiting for your answer, even if it’s a hell no. I’ll be okay with that as long as you guys,” pointing to Cas and Asher, “are still in my life. Because… because we need you, Cas. I need you.”

Cas was stunned silent. He was staring at Dean in surprise, it was something Dean had to remember because it was rare that Cas would be stunned speechless like this.

So maybe this was it. What was it Stewie had said to him? That art thing with the pots? Fixing the pieces together with gold instead of glue?

Nothing else was said between them. There wasn't any need to. All Dean did next was press a kiss to Asher’s head and made his way to the kitchen.

He can do this. He can give Cas time.

He will wait.

 

* * *

 

 

And that’s what Dean did.

He waited.

And time ticked by and a lot happened in the space between then and now. Cas never mentioned what was said that night, neither did Dean and they carried on the way they could. Dean didn't mind. He had a lot of things to distract him and before he knew it, Asher was growing faster than he would like. By the time he was a month old, he was already laughing. By the time he was two months, he was was sitting up on his own, and by the time he was three months, he was babbling away in an attempt at conversation.

Asher was waltzing past normal milestones like they were nothing. He was three months old and he was reaching the development stages of a seven month old. It was a strange thing to watch. Dean will never forget the look on the doctor’s face when they brought Asher in for a check up. It was priceless.

But it didn't stop Dean from worrying. If Asher was growing at an increasing rate, then what does that mean? Will he age faster? Will he reach a certain age and then just stop ageing? Would he age faster and wither away before Dean’s time came? Just because Asher was an angel doesn't mean his fate was secure. What did the future hold for him?

He was an angel without a flock. He had Cas, Dean and Sam, but is that really what he needed? Was Metatron right in Asher needing to be with his angel brothers and sisters?

Man, he really should've asked Gabriel these questions when he showed up all those months ago.

Because Asher is just about to reach his fourth month, and Dean is pretty certain he is going to start crawling soon.

He can see the signs. Asher was able to roll over onto his front, but it was only recently he started to push himself up on his arms. He isn't strong enough to get his legs working in time to the beat of his drums but that has never sopped him before. And crawling at four months? That’s still pretty impressive.

He just hopes no one else takes too much notice and begins to ask questions.

But for now, Dean is enjoying his time with baby Asher.

And Sam is taking the title of uncle very seriously.

He is just as dotting on Asher as Cas and Dean was. During the time when Cas was going through his weird phase, Sam and Dean worked in intervals keeping an eye on the baby, but Sam was signing up for more time with him as he could. What can he say? Sam is just a natural father figure, who desperately wants to be a father. Damn, Dean can only really imagine the hate Sam felt for him when he bailed. But he still called him. If only Sam told him what was going on in that head of his.

All Dean could do was guess what was going on behind those eyes when they play together. The longing, the desperation… Dean could see it. Sam wants this life so bad and the only times he was able to admit it was when he was blind drunk and on the verge of an emotional break down. There was no way in hell Sam would mention it if Dean asked. He was keep that card close to his chest.

But Dean wishes he would say something, though. He wants to be able to talk to Sam about this. It can’t be healthy to bottle it up like he does, but he won’t say anything at all. Dean’s only indications of Sam’s sadness were the brief moments he spots Sam with Asher, like yesterday when they were playing peekaboo in the library. Asher was laughing away in hysterics, and the flicker of sorrow that crosses his eyes in less than a second before he makes Asher laugh again.

Dean was always hiding in the background when he see’s these moments. They were the only time Sam would let it show. But Dean wants to go over and comfort him. He wants to help him out so badly, but Sam would put on a smile and act like things are okay. But they’re not. Dean knows they're not.

_It’s okay, Sammy. It will be you one day. I know it will._

He just wished Sam would let him tell him that.

It happened again this morning. They were having breakfast, but Asher was a bit fussy, so Cas let him roll around on the play mat like he usually does during his tummy time. His favourite toys at the moment were his plush elephant teddy and the soft pillowy seat shaped like a red car (start them young Dean says. He couldn't resist buying it when they went to the store). Cas was keeping an eye on him while Sam and Dean were having their breakfast. They were in the middle of a conversation about a case when Dean saw it. Sam was talking about an obituary he saw in the paper. Dean was listening intently when Sam’s attention was caught by something over Dean’s shoulder. When Dean turned to see what it was, he was just as engaged as Sam was.

Asher was on his front, his arms stretched out under him, but Cas had moved away just a few inches away, but it was enough. Asher was watching Cas, with the same indent in his brow that was his look of concentration. He was swinging back on his legs, picking up his strength, until he finally took the plunge. Asher moved his arms, one after the other, kicking his legs and he was moving.

He was crawling.

_Asher was crawling._

“Oh, my God, buddy!” Dean gushed. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. Asher was making strides towards Cas, and when he was close enough, Cas lifted him up in his arms and held him close to his chest. Asher was giggling away, happy as can be in Cas’ arms and without a care in the world.

Dean didn't even realise he had gotten out of his seat until he found himself by Cas and Asher’s side. He was raining kisses onto Asher’s cheek, causing him to laugh even more. It even got a laugh out of Cas, and that never usually happens, so this was a win. “You are a clever boy, you know that? Aren’t you the cleverest and cutest?”

The only answer Dean got was another fit of giggles because he went back to kissing his cheeks again. It was the best sound in the world. But Dean could feel a set of eyes and him and when he turned to the source, his smile almost dropped.

Because Sam was watching them. He had the strangest look on his face, but the moment Dean turned his head he dropped his gaze. That doesn't mean he didn't see it. How could he not? But Sam was going back to his breakfast like he wasn't interested in what was going on around him. Dean knew better.

Of course he knew. Sam wants this more than anything. His own family. His own kids. And Dean was playing it out in front of him after months of being an asshole.

Heck, if Dean was in his shoes, even he would hate himself.

 

* * *

 

When Asher was seven months old, something else began to change.

Asher was reaching his strides and flourishing everyday, but there was something else that was changing. Between… them.

Dean kept his promise. He waited. He was prepared to wait for as long as it took, but he could see that something was happening. They were, Dean thinks, starting to get better.

At first, Cas just kept their friendship going steady, how things were before Dean screwed it up, and it was nice. They were getting back to the casual, awkward friendship that they knew, the co-parents they agreed to be, and it was good. Dean was liking it, and Cas seemed to be liking it too. They were slowly beginning to spend more time together. They took strolls out to the park with Asher, or out to the store, whenever they could spend time together when they took Asher out of the Bunker. It was their time to themselves and it was doing wonders.

They were talking. That was good. They were able to be themselves around each other. Even better.

But Dean didn't know what that meant. They were getting back on track, but he wasn't sure what that meant for them, you know. But maybe that was for the best. Maybe this was how things should stay. Cas wasn't saying anything, so maybe this is what he wanted.

But Dean did notice some things. There were incidents when they were in the park when people thought they were a couple. It was an innocent assumption. They had a baby together, so they must’ve been together. As always, they would correct them, but over time Dean realised that it was he who was doing the correcting. Not Cas.

Cas never corrected people when they called Dean his partner, or boyfriend. He just nodded. He let Dean do the talking, so one day Dean did a little experiment. They went out to the store to grab a few things, with Asher strapped into his stroller, and a sweet old lady practically gushed over the sight of him. And when she said something about Dean and Cas making a cute couple, Dean gave her a smile and thanked her greatly.

He let her think they were together.

And Cas never said anything to the contrary.

But what does that mean? They never talked about it. They grabbed their stuff and made their way home, but Cas never once mentioned what just happened in the store. Is that good? Bad? Neutral? What does this mean?

Dean didn't talk to Sam about it. Not because he didn't trust Sam, but because maybe this was information that was just between Cas and him. He didn't want to over step his boundaries by blurting it out to his brother.

No. He was going to wait for Cas to say something. Anything. He just didn't know what it was yet.

 

* * *

 

Later that night, Asher was kicking up a fuss again, which was his usual tell tale sign for saying he was hungry. He grabbed a bottle and fed him in the rocking chair until his eyes began to droop and he was sound asleep. Dean waited a few minutes before moving him over to his crib and laying him down. He pulled his blanket over the little guy and tiptoed out of the room as quietly as he could.

The moment he stepped out onto the hallway, he bumped into Cas. He must have been waiting for him while he was with Asher. “Is he asleep?”

Dean nodded. “He’s out like a light.”

Cas frowned. “Was that a yes?”

Ah. Cas may be human, but there were still some phrases that mystified him. “Yeah, he’s a sleep.”

“Good, because I would like to talk with you, Dean.”

Talk? Is this _the_ talk? “Yeah, sure.”

“But not here. Follow me.”

Dean did as he was asked. Cas made his way down the hall and Dean followed him until they found themselves to the door to his bedroom. Without a word, Cas let Dean inside.

They just stood there at first. Dean didn't know what to say at first. This was new ground, but he waited for Cas to make the move. When the silence went on for too long, Dean finally spoke. “So, uh, what did you want to talk about?”

Cas didn't answer him straight away. He strolled over to the side of his bed and grabbed a little white device — the baby monitor — and clicked a button that turned it off. He settled it down back in its usual spot and looked up at Dean. “You leave your baby monitor on.”

_Huh?_ “What?”

“You leave your baby monitor on,” Cas repeated. “All the time. And on the night Gabriel came to visit.”

Wait, baby monitor—

Oh. Crap.

The baby monitor they bought had a set of two. One in Asher’s nursery, one in Cas’ room, one in Dean’s room. It just gave them peace of mind to hear that Asher was okay, but Dean had a tendency to forget it sometimes. And if his feed on the monitor was active that night, then that means… so was Cas’.

Meaning he would have heard every single thing Dean and Gabriel said that night.

Everything.

“So you heard?”

“Yes,” Cas stated.

Dean grimaced. “Ah, crap. Cas, I’m sorry, I—”

“Be quiet,” Cas told him and Dean shut up. From the command or the unusually clipped tone that came from him, he just kept silent. “I heard everything Gabriel said to you, but what you don’t know is that Gabriel paid me a visit not long after that night too.”

Now that surprised him. “He did?”

“Yes.”

“What did he say?”

Cas shook his head. “I’m not going to tell you the specifics, but I will tell you that it was an enlightening conversation.”

“So you know that he staged your death, right? You never actually died?”

Cas studied the hunter carefully and his face sobered up at the mention of his supposed ‘death’. “I know. I know everything now, and I’m okay with it. I don’t remember what happened, exactly. I was in Heaven, then the next thing I knew I was waking up in the hospital. The rest of it is dark in between.”

“You’re okay with it? What Gabriel did was a little messed up, even for him.”

“I’ve died before, Dean. Multiple times. You remember that. The Leviathan’s?”

Yeah, Dean remembers that. When he thought Cas was dead and gone for good until he found him on that doorstep as Emmanuel. “You know I do.”

“But it’s not just that, is it?” Cas asked. “I did a lot of wrong things, but you were somehow able to forgive me. I never understood why. I don’t think I ever really asked you. Maybe it was because I didn't want to know the answer because I never truly forgave myself for what I did to you and Sam. And when I turned human, you and Sam accepted me back in with open arms. That must have been hard on the both of you.”

Dean was just about to argue that point, but Cas held up his hand to silence him and he kept on talking.

“And I know things haven't been easy on either of us, but I do miss the friendship we used to have. And you seemed to be keeping your promise, I know you haven't pushed and I have been taking that time to think. And there is one thing I want to do before we can get somewhere.”

Dean cocked his head to the side. “What’s that?”

And just like that, Cas curled up his fist and the next thing he knew Dean’s head was snapping back with the force of a punch. Dean cried out. His cheek bone was smarting and beginning to throb, but he didn't think it was broken. It just hurt like a bitch. “Ow! Son of a — ow…”

Dean covered up his face and checked his fingertips. No blood. That’s good. No nose bleeds or cuts, but he might get a nasty bruise in the morning. Christ, he forgot how much of a right hook Cas has. Jesus! Dean looked up at Cas who was standing in front of him calmly.

“I’m not going to apologise for that. I’ve wanted to do that for some time.”

_Fair enough,_ Dean thought. He was surprised that it was just a punch. “Did it make you feel better?”

Cas nodded. “Yes.”

Dean flinched when he gently touched his cheek. “Good for you.”

That got a smile out of Cas. After a moment, Cas grabbed the side of Dean’s face that wasn't in pain and he pulled the hunter in and pressed his lips to his. Dean couldn't believe it at first. Maybe the punch had fried a few brain cells. Maybe. But it was slow. There was no intention to go any deeper or get hot and heavy, but it still felt good all the same. It was just a long and lingering kiss and it had a tingle going up Dean’s spine. God, it had been so long…

It was Cas who pulled back and broke the kiss. There was nothing said between them. They didn't need to. They rested their foreheads together, letting the moment happen between them. Cas was watching Dean with a hint of a smile, but with serious eyes.

“I’m not ready to fully forgive you yet, Dean, but I can’t keep hating you. I wish I did, but I don’t think it’s possible. And if you meant what you said and are willing to stay this time then maybe we can get somewhere. But I’m going to need some time to fully trust you again.”

“You promise?” Dean asked, feeling hopeful.

“Yes.”

It was the smallest thing in the world, but Dean took it. He took everything Cas was willing to give him, and maybe even more in the future. “It’s okay, Cas. I’ll wait.”

_Even if it takes forever._

_I’ll wait._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... you like it?
> 
> The next chapter is going to be a timestamp that will focus on Sam. It might be one, two, or maybe there chapters and I think that will be the end. 
> 
> Have a good day and please review. xx


	14. Timestamp

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the timestamp. The tone will be a little different. I was debating whether to add it as a separate work, but I couldn't be bothered to here it is. I hope you like it.
> 
> This is the first timestamp, and there will be one or two other ones. I'll let you know. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy.

**_Four Years Later…_ **

 

If there is anything Dean has learned in his life as a hunter, this is the information he will tell any other hunter in the business. This is the information he will tell everyone, warn anybody, and he will even give this information to Asher when he is old enough to understand that girls don’t actually have cooties. He’ll have the shock of his life when he finds that out, but that’s not the point. No matter what happens, Dean will make sure Asher knows this off by heart to the point where he will recite it in his sleep.

And the information? Never ever, ever, _ever_ trust a fertility goddess.

Especially a Greek one.

Actually, if her name is Aphrodite, don't trust her.

Never trust Aphrodite.

The brothers learned that the hard way.

 

* * *

 

The first thing Dean woke up to was the sound of his son’s incessant chanting of his and Cas’ names. “Dad? Daddy? Wake up, wake up!”

Dean’s first instinct was to groan in his pillow and tighten his arm around the body sleeping next to him. “Cas, your son is calling for you.”

Cas curled in deeper under the covers. “When it’s this early in the morning he’s your son.”

But just when Dean felt himself falling back to sleep, he cried out in pain when Asher made a well aimed jump on his pelvis. He then proceeded to plonk himself into the space between Cas and Dean and kept begging for his parent’s attention. “Dad! You have to wake up.”

Yep, there was no way Dean was going to get back to sleep now. “Okay, I’m up. I’m up…” Dean was able to pull himself into a sitting position, even if his head was still in the clouds, but that never stopped Asher from climbing onto his lap. Dean turned his head to the bedside table to check the clock and his eyes widened. “Buddy, it’s six in the morning. Why are you up so early?”

“I had to wake you,” Asher simply answered.

Dean had to blink back the exhaustion from his eyes. It was the only thing his brain was capable of doing. “Couldn’t it have waited for another few hours?”

“I suppose, but the naked lady in the library wanted to talk to you right now.”

“Okay…” Dean muttered, ready to drop his head back to the pillow and — “Wait, what?”

 

* * *

 

It had started as just another job. Just another regular job for a hunter, but instead of the Winchester’s usual method of finding their work in the obit’s or finding strange incidents in the paper, for some reason the work showed up in the middle of the night, standing in the library… butt naked.

Yeah, that was the first thing Dean noticed about her when he made his way down the stairs, led by the hand by an energetic Asher. Cas was not too far behind them, in much of a sleep deprived state as Dean was, but Asher didn't take much notice of that. By the time they made their way down the stairs, Asher was pulling them into the library area, without a word of what was going on.

“Asher, what are you —“ Dean began to say, but then he saw their mysterious guest. “Holy cow!”

“Hello, boys,” she purred, leaning back on the table.

Yep. She was _completely_ naked.

And she didn't seem to care about it. In fact, she seemed to love it because when Dean cried out in surprise, their guest barely made a move to cover herself and stood proudly under the shocked stares of a hunter, a former angel and a four year old boy—

Damn! Asher!

As if reading Dean’s mind, Cas grabbed their son and put a hand over his eyes. “Um… hello.”

Cas had no idea where to look and Dean was just focusing on a certain book on the highest shelf in the library. A beautiful, leather bound copy of _Herbs and Their Healing Powers in Various Cultures: Myth and Fact_. Red spine, recently cracked. A book Dean has no intention of ever reading in his god damn life. “Who the hell are you?”

“Well, helloooo handsome,” their guest purred and stepped closer. Dean got that from the sound of footsteps approaching their way. “I knew Asher was a cutie pie, but now I can see where he gets his good looks from. You are an incredibly fine specimen, if I say so myself.”

“Um, thanks,” Dean said. “I guess.”

“Wasn’t talking to you.”

Dean turned his head to see that the naked woman was standing directly in front of Cas, biting her lip at him, with a look in her eye that only meant one thing. “If I wasn't on business right now I would show positions that even the Kama Sutra couldn't be able to think up.”

Cas, on the other hand, looked positively terrified. “I would rather continue to not know.”

Their guest merely shrugged in response. “Fair enough.”

“What’s the Kama Sutra?” Asher asked, his eyes still covered by Cas’ palm.

“Ahem!” Dean interrupted. He did not like this woman, whether it was because she was flirting with Cas or because Asher was asking some inappropriate questions for a kid his age, he wasn't sure. He just knew this woman was going to be big trouble and it’s been less than five minutes since they met.

“Oh, behave. I’m only having some fun. And your partner looks like fun,” Dean glanced over to their guest just as she gave Cas a quick wink. “But, I am here for a strictly professional basis. I need you guys to help me with something. Fast. It’s kind of important.”

Damn, this woman is bossy. “Look, Princess, we can talk all you want, but please put some damn clothes on.”

“Why?” She sounded genuinely confused.

Dean almost giggled at that. “Because you're naked! And since this is our home we refuse to discuss anything else with you until you finally put something on!”

“Jeez, you Westerners are such prudes.”

But in that same minute, there was a shimmer in the air. “Better?”

Dean took a chance and looked up. Their guest was finally wearing some sort of clothing, although Dean is using the word ‘clothing' as a bit of a stretch. The dress she wore was… sheer. Incredibly sheer. Dean could still see her shapely curves under the soft fabrics of her pink halter neck gown, but her long wavy blonde hair was covering her nipples underneath, along with other things. It was better than it was when she was naked, so Dean felt as if he shouldn't push his luck. Their guest didn't seem like the type to negotiate.

“Yeah, that’s better.”

Cas must have agreed because he moved his hand away from Asher’s eyes.

She smiled. “Good. Now can I talk, big guy?”

“Sure,” Dean allowed.

“Great! Now, I… wait. Aren't there suppose to be three of you? I swear there was another one of you Winchesters mentioned.”

“You mean my brother? He’s probably still asleep—”

And just as the words left Dean’s mouth, the echo of an opened door reached his ears. He didn't need to guess who it was, and Sam’s voice followed not too far behind. “Dean, it’s six in the morning, why the fuck are you—”

Sam was trudging down the hallway and rubbing his face. Sam might be a morning person, but he spent the previous night studying everything he could on a case they had just finished up on and he was still recovering from the lack of sleep. When you get a sleep deprived Sam, you are going to get attitude. Dean knew that better than anyone. He’s been on the firing end of Sam’s cranky attitude in the past.

Sam looked like he was ready to spew insults left, right and centre at Dean like there was no tomorrow, but once he took his hands away from his eyes Sam was stunned silent by their guest. He looked over to Dean for clarification, and then back at their guest. “Who the hell are you?”

“Wow,” their guest sighed. She openly admired Sam and checked him out from head to toe. “Asher, if the rest of your family is this hot then you are going to have a breeze through your teens.”

“What does that mean?” Asher whispered to Cas.

“Uh, Sam,” Dean interrupted. “Sam, this is…” Dean drifted. He didn't actually know her name. She didn't mention it. “Who are you, actually?”

“Asher knows who I am,” their guest offered.

“Yep!” Asher smiled.

“Can you tell us who our guest is?” Cas asked.

“Dad, daddy,” Asher began. It had taken some time for Dean and Cas to find the right names for Asher to call them by. There was dad and dad (it got too confusing after awhile), daddy Dean and daddy Cas (there was something weird about that one), dad and papa (even Asher refused to use that one), and then there was dad and father (just… no). It was an exhausting process, but they got there in the end. They stumbled upon it by accident and once it happened, Dean couldn't believe they didn't think of it sooner. So over time, Dean became dad and Cas became daddy and things just went on from there. “This lady here is Aph—Aphri—Aphro…”

Asher was a smart kid, but he still struggled to get his tongue around big words, but Dean noticed something weird crossing Sam’s face. When Asher tried to pronounce their guests name again, Sam stepped in and gave his own suggestion. “Aphrodite?”

“That’s it,” Asher beamed.

“Aphrodite, the Greek goddess?” Sam made sure.

“The one and only,” Aphrodite smiled.

Dean couldn't help but notice the shimmer of panic in his brother’s tone.

Even Cas looked worried at the knowledge of their guest’s identity.

But Dean didn't know much about this woman — or goddess. Whoever she was.

“And what can we do for you, princess?” Dean asked. The sooner he knew, the sooner she can leave.

“It’s goddess, boy,” Aphrodite said. “And I’m here because I have gotten myself into a… bit of a pickle. Again.”

Dean shrugged. “And what does that got to do with us?”

“Dean,” Sam warned. “Don’t antagonise her. She’s a goddess, she can do what ever she wants to you.”

Aphrodite’s eyes jumped between the two brothers. “You know, I remember the last lovely bunch of you Men of Letters being much more polite than this. What happened to them, anyway?”

“They were slaughtered,” Cas answered.

But Aphrodite barely batted an eyelid. “Oh. Well that would do it. So it’s just you guys now? No offence, boys, but that doesn't give me much hope.”

Okay, Dean has had enough of her attitude. “Honey, what the hell are you doing here?”

“Because I need your help and by your own rules, the only place I am allowed to wander on this planet are in these four walls.”

“That doesn't explain why you are here. _Goddess_.”

If you think Sam is terrible on lack of sleep then Dean was much worse. Aphrodite only smiled in response to Dean’s tone, like he was nothing more than a puppy having a temper tantrum. “Hm, someone’s grumpy. Fine, I’ll just tell you, since you look like you are ready to bite my head off. One of the muses stole something very precious to me. I need it back.”

That did not make Dean feel any better. “So why can’t you get it yourself?”

“It’s not that simple.”

When she didn't elaborate, Dean sighed. “How come?”

It was Sam’s turn to butt in. Dean knew his brother well enough to recognise the signs of Sam having a mini freak out — large eyes, slight heavy breathing. Sam was trying his best to keep calm, but something was bothering him. “Dean, if you had gotten off your ass to read the classified files like I told you to do, you would know why it’s not so simple.”

“Know what?” Asher asked, looking up at Cas and Dean. Cas ran a hand over his hair and answered for him. “Aphrodite is not allowed to roam around humans anymore. After an incident that happened a few centuries ago, there was a vote on Olympus that Aphrodite should not be allowed to enter Earth. The Men of Letters changed it so that if she has urgent business that requires her to come here, she must refer to them first.”

Dean was a little taken back. Both at the fact that Cas knew that, and for that rule. Not allowed to return to Earth? Dean has dealt with many supernatural beings before and none of them had ever been banned before. Jeez, who the hell is this woman? “Wow, that’s harsh. What did you do?”

“Ever heard of the battle of Troy?” Aphrodite asked.

“Yeah.”

“That was kinda my fault.”

“Kinda?” Dean asked.

When Aphrodite refused to answer him, Dean couldn't be bothered with the interrogation. He didn't have to deal with this, not when it was so early in the damn morning. “You know what? I’m too tired to care. Can’t you just get one of your other minions to do it for you?”

“I’m not here out of the kindness of my heart, boy,” Aphrodite sassed back. “I don't like to admit this, but I do need your help. The last thing I want to be doing is grovelling to a bunch of humans. Truthfully, it’s embarrassing. But I need your help and you guys are all I have. So will you help me?”

Honestly, Dean wanted to say no. He really wanted to say no, this goddess has been here for five minutes and he has already had his fill of her personality. She was rude, hotheaded, and, from the sound of what Cas just said, reckless. But what choice do they have? “You really can’t get it yourself?”

“No, I can’t,” Aphrodite huffed.

“And if we do this for you, will you leave?”

Aphrodite smiled. “Happily.”

And with a deep sigh, Dean resigned himself to his fate. “Then it looks like we’re helping.” And with a smile from the goddess, Dean internally grimaced. God, he really hopes he doesn't regret this. “What is it that was taken from you?”

“A statue.”

“I’m gonna need a bit more information than that, princess?”

“Okay, fine,” Aphrodite gave in. “It’s a very, very, _very_ strong fertility statue…”

 

* * *

 

It was no big deal. Actually, it was a pretty easy job in the end. They were able to track down the muse, gank the crazy nymph and find the layout of the statue before dinnertime. That should've been Dean’s first clue. It was too damn easy.

They were able to get the statue back to the Bunker with the help of some very strong kitchen utensils (they didn't want to risk touching it with gloved hands. Not when you're dealing with the handiwork of a goddess as crazy as Aphrodite), but they were able to get it there. It didn't help when you had a brother that kept yapping all about the bad things Aphrodite is infamous for and how he couldn't believe Dean had agreed to this job in the first place. Dean just learned to block out his incessant whining after awhile. Honestly, if Sam carried on with another story about Aphrodite making a woman lust after a bear and making her have his cannibal babies, he is going to rip Sam’s hair out.

But they did it. They got the statue and they were about to make their way home. The moment they walked into the Bunker, Dean was instantly disappointed because who was waiting for them? The Goddess herself. Can’t they have a few minutes to themselves, dammit?

It was late that night, so Dean assumed Cas and Asher were already asleep. The last thing Dean wanted was Asher meeting her again, not after that session of very awkward questions the little guy was asking once she left. Those weren't the type of questions a four year old should be asking and Dean found himself stuttering like a fool. Seriously? How do you explain to a kid what a sex manual is? Exactly! You don’t!

Thank God that Cas is better at explaining to Asher certain things. Maybe it’s because of a mother/son bond, or because Cas is a former angel, but those two were thicker than thieves. Those two would be giggling away at something and Dean would be left clueless at that was going on between them.

Maybe Cas could've helped to explain their way out of this one. Dean was definitely not in the mood to talk to this bitch again. At least she was dressed this time. “Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

“I heard through the grape vine that you got it,” Aphrodite asked.

Dean didn't answer her this time. All the brothers did was plonk the duffle bag on the table and Sam carefully opened it up. Dean had the utensils this time, so he chucked them over to Sam. He caught them, opened up the duffle enough to get them in and clamped over the figure.

At first look, there was nothing special about the statue itself. In Dean’s opinion, this was an ugly ass statue. It was a statue of Aphrodite, but this must have been made by a ‘lowly human’, as Aphrodite liked to call them, because it hardly resembled her. This Aphrodite had red flowing hair, brown eyes and had two large shells on the side of her head. Like he said, it was damn ugly, but it was what Aphrodite wanted.

Sam held the statue in the utensils and carried it as close to Aphrodite as he could, but the Goddess didn't want to wait. She grabbed the statue out of Sam’s grasp and practically beamed at it.

“Finally!” Aphrodite sang. “I’ve been freaking out without you! You boys have no idea what would've happened if this got out to the public.”

“What? People doing it in the streets?” Dean joked.

“Yeah,” Aphrodite answered. Dean was a little stunned at first, but then Aphrodite gave them a serious look. “You guys didn't touch it, did you?”

“No,” Dean asked. “Why?”

“No reason.”

Dean didn't know how to react to that and neither did Sam, but Aphrodite didn't seem to care and gave the statue a quick kiss. “Well, I have to admit that I am impressed. I underestimated you boys. I owe you big time. So tell me what you want.”

Dean did a double take. “Excuse me?”

“Tell me what you want,” Aphrodite clarified. “I always give the Men of Letters boys a little something before I leave, so whatever your deepest desire is I can make it happen. So what do you want? New cars? A million dollars? A night of kinky sex with no inhibitions… with Scarlett Johansson?”

Oh hell, no. Dean is not asking for anything from this bag of crazy. “Thanks, but you really don’t have to—”

“Oh, yes I do, and I’m not leaving until you tell me. Come on…”

Damn it, this bitch was not going to leave well alone. “Okay, since we have to pick something, I want protection.”

Aphrodite looked absolutely stunned by that answer. “Protection?”

“For my family,” Dean answered. “This isn't a safe business, sweetheart, and do I need to tell you again what happened to the last bunch of Men of Letters?”

Slaughtered by a demon, and who knows what happened to the other members before that. Their grandfather. Aphrodite seemed to take a moment to think about that and shrugged. “Huh. Good point.”

There was something in Aphrodite’s expression that Sam must have noticed that Dean didn't see. “You seem surprised.”

“No. Impressed, actually. Usually when I ask a man what he desires the most, protection is not the first thing that pops into their heads.”

Aphrodite gave Dean a wink and it made Dean shudder. “Glad I break the mould. Can you do it?”

“It’s what you desired, I can make that happen. So by family you mean…”

“Me, Cas, Asher, and Sam. I want us all to be safe.”

“Sure thing,” Aphrodite answered. “That won’t be a problem. So what about you, Sam Winchester?”

Sam didn't hear her straight away, but when Dean and the Goddess stared at him for awhile, he must have got the gist of it. “Me?”

“Yeah! You helped out. I don't want to leave without giving you something. It’s unwomanly of me. Tell me what you want and I will provide.”

Sam looked just as comfortable by the offer as Dean was. “Um, thank you, but there isn't anything I really want.”

Aphrodite looked disappointed. “Really? Not even the sex with Scar Jo?”

Sam released a nervous giggle. “No. Look, I don’t really know what I want so you don’t have to—”

“Oh, that’s okay. You don’t have to worry about that. All I have to do is look into your heart and I will find it.”

Sam froze. “What?”

“Yeah, all I have to do is this.”

Before Sam could say anything to stop her, Aphrodite was already standing in front of him. She placed a hand on his chest, just over his heart and suddenly it felt as if the whole room was silent. Sam didn't make a move, Dean didn't make a sound and the Goddess was too busy to care about their reactions. Soon, a glow was forming under her palm, shining in bright yellows and gold. It was beautiful to look at if it wasn't tinged with a hint of worry from both Sam and Dean at what she was doing.

It didn't last too long though. Just as long as the glow was shining, it died away. But this was different. Aphrodite took her hand off Sam’s chest and when the younger Winchester looked up, Aphrodite was watching him with an unusual look.

“Okay,” the Goddess whispered. “I can do that.”

From the look of Sam’s expression, Dean guessed that his brother had no idea what she was talking about. Neither did Dean, for that matter. The question was just on the tip of his tongue when Aphrodite took a step back away from the Winchesters.

“Well, I better go now,” Aphrodite mused. “I have things to do, tributes to pick up, you know. I’m a busy girl and all. Your desires have been granted, Winchesters. Dean, you and your family will be protected as was promised. Even as a sign of good faith, I will make sure it extends to any other new family members you boys end up adding to your little clan. And Sam, your little gift will be arriving very soon.”

Dean didn't miss the confused look Sam gave him.

But that made Aphrodite smile like there was a secret only she knew. “Bye for now.”

And in a flash, she was gone.

And Dean felt like he could finally breathe.

“Thank God!” Dean sighed. He grabbed a seat by the table and sat down. He just wanted to go to bed and sleep for the next three days, but there was something else that was bugging him. Sam too, for that matter. Only it was Sam that wouldn't let it go. Dean could see it weighing heavily on his features, and Dean huffed. “Spit it out, Sam.”

“Dean, what did she mean by that?” Sam asked. “What did she do?”

“Damn if I know. I’m just glad she’s gone.”

“I’m serious. What did she do?” Sam begged.

Dean groaned. “Sam, I don’t know. She’s nuttier than a bag of peanuts. Just be glad she’s out of here.”

“I don’t know. I’ve got a bad feeling,” Sam muttered.

Dean wasn't too surprised about his brother’s anxiety, not after the last few hours of his brother’s story telling of the antics of Aphrodite. Man, from the amount of lovers she had in the myths that were told, that Goddess kept herself busy. And she definitely had a temper. Just look at her body count.

But that was when she was angry. She seemed to be in a good mood when she left and the brothers did their job, so there was no need to worry about her wrath. Right? Dean hoped so. And if anyone knew it better than anyone then it would be Sam. He actually did the homework. He knew more about her than Dean did. So why was he looking so spooked?

“What did you want, anyway?” Dean asked, curiosity getting the better of him. “What was it that you desired the most, geek boy?”

And Sam looked uncomfortable by the question. He avoided his brother’s watchful gaze and busied himself with packing up his duffle bag again. “The same as you. For her to leave.”

Dean narrowed his eyes. “Is that really what you are going with?”

But Sam didn't answer him.

Dean wasn't too surprised. Sam never actually spoke about what it was he wanted in life. Not after what happened between Dean and Cas, anyway, but once they were able to start their reconciliation after the mess they had been through, Sam just… Dean doesn't know how to explain it, but Sam never mentioned it again. He watched Dean and Cas go through their little dance back to friends, on the way to being the couple and the parents they were now, with all the mishaps and the good times. Sam seemed fine with it all, encouraged it even and helped along the way, but he never seemed to move away from the role of uncle. He never went beyond that or tried to find his own family.

He just… settled, Dean guessed. He just settled with the way things were.

Sure, Dean would spot the way Sam would stare at Dean with Asher, or the way his little brother babysat for him and Cas, but Dean’s attempts at talking to him were shot down like a ball of flames. Sam never wanted to talk about it, and after the one hundredth time Dean asked, he finally gave up.

Dean didn't want to. It’s just that the longing in Sam’s eyes dimmed down over the years and he never let himself linger much longer, but that doesn't mean it fully died away. No way.

But if Sam wasn't going to answer him, there was nothing Dean could do. They’ve been here thousands of times. It always ends the same way.

Sam would walk out and head to his room, Dean would try and get him to open up, only for it to be thrown back in his face, or told that Sam was fine when he wasn’t, and they would head to their rooms and act like the conversation between them never happened, and they would carry on their days like every other day before.

And that’s exactly what happened.

Sam went to his room without another word. Dean would go and talk to him, but he was just too tired to do so at this moment in time. Instead, he trudged up to his room.

Cas was still asleep on his usual side of the bed, so Dean tiptoed in. He didn't bother changing out of his clothes. He curled on top of the covers, arm around Cas’ waist and he was asleep in seconds.

 

* * *

 

In the morning, Dean was able to wake up fully rested, much to his surprise. He was only able to get a few hours in, just before Asher came marching in again and vying for his attention, like always. Dean began to panic for a moment that Aphrodite was back and ready for more help, but thank God she wasn't here again. He could go his whole life without seeing her again.

And when Dean didn't hear anything from her in the next few days, he finally felt himself begin to relax a little bit.

The family of three were sitting by the dinner table, with Asher sitting on Cas’ lap while his daddy ate. Asher still had a very slow metabolism since the day he was born, and since he ate yesterday it would be another few days until he felt hungry again. Dean and Cas have no idea how they are going to explain that once he starts kindergarten because when Asher isn't hungry, he refuses to eat, even if he has to. You have no idea the temper tantrums it has caused.

Dean was in the kitchen making a cup of coffee when he heard someone waltz in to the kitchen. When he turned to see who it was, he was surprised by what he saw. Sam was already by the fridge and chugging down a bottle of water like there was no tomorrow. He noticed Dean staring at him and gave him a quick nod in his direction. “Morning.”

Dean didn't answer him straight away. He just made sure he was seeing what he was actually seeing, and when it didn't change, he spoke. “Dude, you went for a run?”

Sam was wearing his old running gear — shorts, running shirt, the whole works — and he was drenched in sweat. He must’ve gone for an early one when the others were fast asleep because they didn't see him go out and they were up early themselves.

Sam just chugged down the rest of his bottle and shrugged. “Yeah, felt like it.”

“No one feels like going for a run. The only time a person should feel like going for a run is when a werewolf is on their tail. Are you okay?”

Sam took a moment to answer that with a nod. “Yeah, I am. Actually, I feel better than okay. I feel great. I can’t explain it, I just woke up with a ton of energy today, it’s amazing.”

“It’s weird,” Dean replied. “Is there something you want to tell me?”

“No. I’m just having a good day. That’s all. Can’t I have that?”

Dean didn't answer him. It was unusual for Sam to be in a good mood like this, but before Dean could ruminate on it for much longer, the sound of little feet made their way to the kitchen and Asher was walking in.

“Dad, daddy wanted me to tell you that—” Asher began, but he suddenly stopped when he lifted his gaze up to look around the room and they landed on Sam. “Uncle Sammy?”

Asher was giving Sam the strangest look Dean had ever seen on the little boy. He was staring at Sam like he was seeing something in his soul that was not there before, and that is saying something. As an angel, Asher doesn't see people’s physical form. He can see their souls. One time, Dean asked Asher what his family actually looked like to the little boy, and Asher answered by describing the colours and edges of their very essences, something that Dean never thought was describable in the first place. It was a weird thing to know that your son sees the world in a different way. Literally.

But the way Asher was staring at Sam was unnerving. It even got Dean a little worried for a moment, until the little boy burst into a big smile and launched himself straight towards Sam. It took the younger Winchester by surprise, for sure, but Asher continued to hug him tight around his legs. “Uncle Sammy!”

“Hey, champ,” Sam said. He gave Dean a look, but Dean had no idea what was going on either. Don't get him wrong, Asher is a very affectionate boy, but this was a bit unusual. He saw Sam last night before he went to bed, but seeing him this morning is nothing to get so excited about. It was like he hadn't seen him in a long time. “You seem happy today.”

“I am! I am!”

“You want to tell us why?” Dean asked.

“I can’t. It’s a secret,” Asher giggled.

“Why is it a secret?”

“It just is,” Asher simply said. “I can’t tell you yet.”

“Sure, okay,” Dean played along with Asher for a moment. He was just relieved that it wasn't too serious by the way Asher was playing and joking about, so he didn't think too much about it. “It looks like we are gonna have to tickle it outta him, Sammy.”

“Looks like we’ll have to, Dean,” Sam played along.

“No,” Asher said.

“Let’s get him!” Dean said.

“Nooo!”

Asher ran out of the kitchen with Sam and Dean not far behind him. Once they were close enough, Dean swooped Asher up in his arms and blew kisses into belly, a move Dean knew would bring Asher out into a state of giggles.

They played like that for who knows how long, until Asher had enough and kicked Dean in the stomach. Not enough for it to hurt, but enough for Dean to know Asher was done. He put the little guy back on the floor, but he was soon grabbed by the hand and dragged back into the same room with Cas.

But looking back now, Dean should've realised the first sign in front of him because the whole time they were playing, Asher was gentle with Sam. After that day, their play together was always gentle, but he went crazy with Dean like there was no tomorrow. He never once fought him too hard or roughhoused with him, and he never once kicked Sam in the stomach. Not once.

That should've been the first clue Dean should've realised.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think?
> 
> I'll be adding tags as I go along because I don't want to spoil things.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this in a mix of exhaustion and jet lag. I'm not happy with it. It seems a little rushed, but my brain won't work anymore. And I've got work. Why can't I sleep!?

Dean couldn't believe how stupid he was sometimes. Sure, he never claimed to be the next Einstein, nor was he as smart as Sam, but he wouldn't call himself a complete idiot. He’s been in many situations where a little brains were required and so far they haven’t disappointed him. Whatever he lacks in the intellectual department, he makes up for in his fighting stance and his charming wit… but even then that does get him into trouble. Especially with Cas. Well, mostly with Cas… exclusively with Cas, but that’s not the point. The point is that he is not completely incompetent.

Dean was lucky to have a home in the Bunker like they did, but he and Sam still had to hit the road for cases when the time came. The supernatural never liked to haunt or kill in the local hubs of Lebanon, Kansas, which was great for keeping Asher safe, but it sucked because that meant Dean had to leave home to work on a case.

It was one of the first things Dean and Cas talked about when they reconciled. Cas knew Dean was still a hunter and it was never easy to give up the life (just look at Sam and what happened to Jess) and he told him there was no expectation for Dean to do anything give up the job. Like Cas said, this world needed the Winchester’s protection. He didn't want to be selfish.

So Dean made the choice to lessen the work load. There was no way in hell he was going to take Asher with him on a case. He’s not his dad. He won’t put Asher in danger and he certainly was not going to teach him how to shoot a gun at four. He’s a kid. But he didn't want to be too far away from his son, either. So, after a little bit of negotiation, Dean and Cas were able to get somewhere. The brothers could go on with their hunts, but Dean won’t spend more than a week on a case, and there must be a break in between each one so that he could spend time with Asher.

It was a fair enough. Dean wished he wasn't away so much, but he still had a job to do. There were still going to be people who needed their help, but he wasn't going to give up his life in the process. Not like his dad did.

Luckily, Dean didn't leave much. Over the years, Sam and Dean have collected a few contacts and they've been able to spend most of the time giving research to fellow hunters when they didn't want to do it themselves. It was easier for them. More time at home, meaning more time with Asher and Cas.

Although there were some exceptions, and the brothers would end up driving across the country for a case, but not often. Maybe one or two each month, and they never lasted more than a couple of days. It was the perfect schedule for Dean. Time at home with his family and some quality time with Sam.

But there was something different about Sam that had Dean worried.

Being on the road with Sam again meant Dean was more aware of his brother’s habits than before. Don’t get him wrong, Dean knew Sam better than anyone. Life on the road made sure Dean knew everything about Sam, and vice versa, but the last few months have been… strange.

Dean was only able to see the difference when they were sharing the same motel room together. How Sam was able to hide it when they were in the Bunker, Dean didn't know, but he couldn't do it in a motel. There was no where for him to hide.

And something was off.

Yeah, the brothers were as similar to each other as chalk was to cheese, but Dean knew all of his weird quirks after years of living in small motels and the Impala all their lives. But recently… Dean couldn't put his finger on it, but Sam was acting weirder than usual. Really weird, Dean would tease Sam about this usually, but he’s worried. This is not like Sam, at all.

But looking back at it all, the signs were staring at him in the face for so long.

You know what? Forget what Dean said. He really is unbelievably stupid.

 

* * *

 

It started with the food.

Of course it would be the food. They didn’t have the best diets in the world, with being on the road most of the time it was easier to get something at a dingy old diner than to make something themselves. Dean couldn't help it. It was habit. Dean can place a bet that his cholesterol levels would give even a doctor a heart attack. Still, it was better than nothing, but Sam being the ever sensible one tried to have a reasonable diet with a few salads here and there.

That was until a few days into a case. During that time, Sam’s eating habits have been a little… peculiar.

They were at a diner they had spotted on the side of the road on their way to Utah to investigate a string of suicides that happened on the same day at the same time. The victims never had any history of depression or suicidal tendencies, so naturally, the brothers became curious. They had been driving for half a day and Dean was starving. Sam was complaining about his hunger too, all he was doing was complaining. Dean didn't think much of it at the time, but when they took their seats, that’s when Dean realised why Sam was in such a crabby mood.

They were eating at their table. Dean had his usual greasy fry up with fries, and Sam… Sam had three plates in front of him, ranging from burgers and fries, nachos and some other stuff that Dean didn't bother to remember. Dean was certain that the waitress had made a mistake when she arrived with all the plates, but he shut up the moment Sam grabbed the plates and Dean was left speechless and wide eyed because Sam was eating everything.

No, not eating. Devouring everything. Once he was finished with one plate he would move on to the next, like he hadn’t eaten anything all day.

He was like a starving man who hadn't eaten for weeks. Sam had a big appetite when he was growing up, it tampered off a little bit after puberty, but it was never like this. He was consuming food and chugging down soda like the world was going to end tomorrow. It wasn't until Sam was on his third plate when Dean decided to say something.

“Sam?”

“Hm?” Sam barely acknowledged him, and kept downing his soda in large gulps.

“Are you trying to get your waist to match your height?’

“What?” Sam had managed to down the entire glass, using his sleeve to wipe off the line on his upper lip.

“Dude, that was your third soda.”

“Was it?” Sam asked.

“Yeah,” Dean nodded slowly. “You didn't notice? Or are the curly fries here that intoxicating?”

“Sorry. It’s just everything here tastes amazing. I’m starving.” Sam grabs on to the burger on his plate and takes a bite out of it. The meat juices dripped from the bun, with some of it landing on Sam’s chin, but he kept on eating away at it like an animal. “Aren’t you gonna eat your meal?”

“I’m not so hungry anymore,” Dean pushed his plate away, feeling a little nauseated, but Sam didn't notice. He just kept on eating. “Seriously, didn't you have breakfast this morning?”

“Not really. I wasn't feeling too good so I skipped it, but I’m hungry now. I just want to eat everything.” And he didn't stop. Every interval between bites, Sam would practically tear at his food, his teeth keep chomping it away like a ravenous animal on his prey. It’s quite disgusting with all of the meat juices and grease that stuck to his chin. “If you’re not gonna eat that—”

“Go ahead.” Dean pushed his plate to Sam. He grabs a few of his fries and shoves them in his mouth along with whatever else he’s eating at the time. Maybe it was the burger. Dean couldn't be sure. He didn't want to look anymore.

Sam must have noticed his brothers sudden aversion because Dean could hear his chewing slow down. “What?”

Dean almost chuckled. He thought it was obvious. “I feel like I’m watching a lion eat his prey on the discovery channel. Sam, this hunger game appetite right now is not normal. Are you anywhere near full?”

“Nope. I’m even debating ordering dessert. Does this place do take out?”

“Seriously?” Dean asked, but Sam was already looking around for the waitress. She must have spotted Sam’s wandering eye because she was by their side in an instant.

“Okay boys, is there anything else I can get for you?

“Can we take some chicken pieces to go?” Sam asked, licking his fingers.

Yikes.

 

* * *

 

Then it was the vomiting.

In hindsight, the amount of food Sam was eating was bound to catch up with him sooner or later, but it didn't seem to stop his appetite. Worse. It seemed to have manifested into some kind of monster of an appetite. And it wasn't the kind of monster that Dean could just kill to get rid of. Not only was a normal meal no longer enough to fill his brother, Sam started… combining things.

Disgusting things.

They had just reached Montana to look up a possible vampire case, where a few teens ended up with bite marks on their necks and with no memory of how they got them. After the hours they spent in the car, the first thing Dean wanted to do was sleep, so he dropped his stuff near the door and fell back on the bed. But Sam wasn't going to let him do that.

Sam demanded for Dean to stop at the first diner they saw on the way, and his moods have been all over the place that Dean just drove up and let him get what he wanted just to avoid another hissy fit. Sam was less than ten minutes in and he brought out three different bags of take out and immediately started to pig out. Dean just shook his head and carried on driving until they hit the next motel.

By the time they got their room, Dean collapse straight onto the bed, utterly exhausted and just wanting to sleep. Just before he could do that, Sam started to unwrap another take out bag to eat whatever is in it, and for Dean that was the last straw. This was getting ridiculous.

“Sam, do you want to… I don’t know, not eat your way into obesity?”

Sam didn't even look up from his meal. “Says the guy who has the cholesterol of a 400 pound man.”

“Oh dude, come on! Cheap shot. Maybe we could get some money by entering you in one of those food eating contests. You would win in a heart attack.”

Sam giggled at that, but suddenly his face froze. He slowed his chewing his face twisting in a grimace, as if testing the taste of his food. His earlier enthusiasm for his hunger was going away the longer he kept chewing. It was subtle but Dean could have sworn he saw Sam gag slightly, only slightly, but Sam persisted and finished his bite and swallowed it. However, once he did he closed his eyes in revolution and winced.

Dean’s lethargy seemed to melt away from his limbs, and he lifted himself up from the bed to look more closely at his brother.

“Sammy, you okay?”

Sam didn't even respond to Dean. He gagged. He gagged and in that next second, he threw his hand over his mouth and his eyes were wide and panicked.

“Sam?” Dean asked.

The minute Dean asked, Sam was scrambling to his feet and running into the bathroom.

“Sammy!”

Dean followed Sam instinctively. He didn't even think about it, it was like he was on autopilot. That was worry for Dean. It was the same for when he was with Asher. He couldn't help but worry. By the time Dean made it to the door, he saw Sam fall to his knees, lifting the toilet seat and chucked up the contents of his stomach.

Before he knew it, Dean was on the floor next to Sam. He pulled back the hair from Sam’s face that was dangling over his face. It was freakishly long now. Has Sam ever heard of a damn barber?

Dean would usual say that comment out loud, but he doubted Sam would hear him. He was ill. Violently ill. He was retching so loudly, Dean didn't think he could feel his hand rubbing his back. He was too caught up in the horrible churning of his stomach that was making his body tremble and sweat in the process. Dean didn't know what he could do. In his whole life, Sam had only ever been sick after a few drinking binges and a poor choice of the seafood platter at a dingy restaurant. It had never been like this. Sam had never been sick like this before.

It felt like forever, but when it was finally over, Sam’s body was cold to the touch. He spat out the bitter after-taste from his mouth and rested his head on the cool seat and groaned. Dean let Sam’s hair fall back over his face and placed his hand on his forehead — sweat. He was hot. Not feverish, but not well either.

“Dean?” Sam whispered.

“I’m here,” Dean reassured.

“The room’s spinning.”

“Don’t worry. It’ll pass,” Dean spotted a glass on the sink. He grabbed it, filled it with water and passed it to Sam. He resisted at first, but he eventually gave in. When Dean saw his face, Sam was literally green around the gills. He ended up taking small sips of water, only to spit it out into the toilet bowl when his face twisted from the taste.

“How do you feel?” Dean asked.

“Ugh,” Sam tried to get up onto his feet. He only ended up getting onto his knees before he got dizzy and was eventually led back to sitting on the floor. He didn't even fight Dean’s insistent hands. “I feel awful.

“You gonna throw up again?”

Sam shook his head. Dean didn't want to take the risk and so grabbed the trash can and brought it next to Sam. Just in case. He kept an eye on him, waiting for something to happen and waited for anything that might throw his brother in a retching mess.

“Feeling better?”

“Nope.”

Dean’s eyes wandered over to the discarded burger forgotten in the bedroom. “I’m guessing you're not hungry anymore, huh?” Dean chuckled in an attempt to lighten the mood.

That was the wrong thing to joke about because Sam just gagged at the mention of food. Dean was worried he was going to throw up again and brought the trash can in front of his face. Even Sam thought he was going to chuck up his guts too and grabbed a hold of the can. However, a few seconds of heavy breathing and a wash of green over Sam’s features, there didn't seem to be anything.

Dean’s attention was grabbed when Sam motioned to the bedroom. He wasn't sure what he was doing. He followed his gaze and to where he was pointing. It wasn't until Dean spotted the take out bags that he realised what it was. He wanted his to get rid of them. Finally. Dean grabbed the bags, opened the motel window and threw them out, with a hint of satisfaction. Even he was getting sick of white castle, and that was saying something.

Maybe it was best to keep the window open, to get the smell out of here. To let the room breathe a bit. The place was reeking of grilled beef and lard. No wonder Sam threw up. He had been eating those patties for the past few days. It was about time he finally felt sick of them.

“Any better?” Dean called out.

“No!” Sam’s groan echoed out from the bathroom.

“What the hell was _that?”_

“I don’t know. Bad burger, maybe? Ugh, don't mention food…”

“I didn’t say anything. What makes you think I —”

The only sound he got was Sam throwing up afresh.

“Never mind.”

 

* * *

 

That was a few months ago. The sickness persisted for a few more days after the hamburger incident that Sam chalked up to simple food poisoning, but that didn't mean his appetite went away. Yeah, the craving for white castle wasn't the same, but it was like Sam was eating for two with the way he was shovelling down the food, but it didn't worry Dean as much as it did before. Slowly, but surely, Sam went back to his beloved salads and health shakes, but this time he ended up going for the big bowls and the second rounds just to fill him up, but Dean wasn't worried. Sam was beginning to feel better and they were able to get back on track.

Although… there was something about that incident that kept plaguing Dean. He can’t explain why, but he had a feeling that there was something more happening with his brother than Sam was willing to let on. But every time he made his concerns to Sam known, his brother would wave them off and say he was fine like he always did, but something wasn't right. It wasn't.

He tried talking to Cas about it, but Cas had no idea either. He and Sam were good friends, but even Cas couldn't get an answer other than his automatic and tiresome ‘I’m okay’ speech and go about his day.

Asher didn't seem too concerned though. In fact, he was the one who kept enabling Sam’s habit. Weird.

You know what? Maybe Dean was thinking too much about it. Maybe that was it. Sam would say if he was ill, and so far his little brother seems healthy. Yeah. Maybe it was just a fluke. It happens all the time.

Maybe Sam is fine after all.

 

* * *

 

But that was before the back ache came into play.

And we are talking some serious back ache here.

It threw Dean off the first time it happened because, and like always, Sam didn't say anything about it. If he hadn't been telling every one that he was fine when he wasn't then Dean might have been able to do something about it and not put him through more pain like the stubborn ass that he is!

Sorry. Dean needed to vent.

He had absolutely no idea that this was even a problem.

The only reason he knew about this was because he caught Sam at his worst. Yeah, Sam had been putting a hand on his back a bit more often, but he never looked like he was hurting much. He just assumed it was a crick in his spine and nothing more. But they were out on a hunt which turned out to be a bust (a guy disappeared in a suspect attack that the brothers assumed was werewolf related. Turns out he ran off with the elderly librarian. Ew.) and the hadn't had a chance to relax much. Sam never complained though. That was until they were interviewing one of the witnesses.

They were dressed in their FBI suits and talking to one of Mr. Fredricks (the ‘victim' with the older woman fetish. GILF fetish.) co-workers. It was just a simple enquiry, nothing more. Dean was asking the questions, but from the corner of his eye he saw that Sam was rocking slowly back and forth on his feet for some reason. Even the co-worker was watching Sam oddly, but his brother seemed to be pushing past it as much as he could.

To be fair, it had been a long and frustrating day. They knew the search was a bust now, but back then they were struggling to find any information at all about the creature that could've taken him. They had spent the last day with no sleep, little breaks and frustrating leads, and this co-worker was no exception. He was just as much help as a Twinkie bar in a… actually, that was a bad example. Dean could really do with a Twinkie right now. He hadn't eaten since last night.

The sooner this interview was done, the better.

“So you definitely saw Mr. Fredricks come into work that day?” Dean asked for what seemed like the one hundredth time this hour.

“Yeah,” the co-worker said,. Again. But Dean didn't trust the whacked out expression in his eyes that told him that this guy was in the middle of a weed high right now. That and the fact that he stunk of it, as well. Seriously, how is he getting away with coming to work stoned? “Didn’t I, like, just said that?”

“I think you mean ‘say’ that,” Dean corrected the moron. “And you haven't actually answered any of our questions. At all. In the last few minutes we have spoken with you.”

“So?” the guy shrugged.

“So we are in the middle of a serious investigation of the disappearance of a friend of yours and you don't really seem to care.”

The guy shrugged again. “I don’t really know him so well, so I can’t really tell ya much.”

“You’ve worked with him for over two years in the same department and you can’t tell us anything?”

The guy gave Dean a derivative look.“I already told you that.”

Wow, Dean really wants to slap this guy.

“Look, Mr. Harper,” Sam interrupted. _Harper! That was his name!_ Dean finally remembered. He turned to look at Sam and Dean was surprised by what he saw. Sam was looking more uncomfortable by the minute. During they conversation, Sam had started to grip the edge of the desk behind him for support. “We know we are taking up your time, but Mr Fredricks is missing and we are trying to find leads on where he might have — I’m sorry, do you mind if I sit down?”

“What?” Mr. Harper asked.

“I need to sit down. I really, really need to sit down.” But before Mr. Harper and the chance to answer, Sam was grabbing the closest seat available and sitting down as soon as he could. Even as he took a seat, Sam was still huffing and puffing away in discomfort. “Ah, man. That hurt.”

“Dude, you okay?” Mr. Harper asked.

“Yeah, ‘m fine. Just needed a sit down, that’s all,” Sam panted with a wince.

“You don’t look fine,” Dean commented.

“I am, it’s just — ow!” Sam winced again. He put a hand to his back and stretched back into a curve to try and click it back into place. It didn't seem to be working because Sam was not looking any better. “I just really needed to sit down.”

“Maybe you should try a heating pad,” Mr. Harper said.

“Maybe,” Sam nodded.

“Or I’ve got some weed if you think that will help.”

The only reply Mr. Harper got was a bewildered stare from both brothers.

Like the idiot that Dean seems to be presenting himself as, he didn't ask Sam what the problem was. It had been a long day, they were both exhausted. He just thought it was part of that.

But it wasn't until the next day when he realised how bad it was.

It was late at night/early in the morning when Dean woke up. He can’t be sure what stirred him awake, but then he heard an uncomfortable grunt near his bed and he was wide awake. With the simple turn of his head, he saw Sam was laying flat on the floor, his knees bent slightly and with a pinch in his brow.

“Sam?”

Sam jumped at the sound of his brother’s voice. “Dean, did I wake you?”

“Hey, don't worry about it. Are you okay?”

“No, I’m not. It’s my back.”

“Your back?” Dean asked, getting up on his elbow.

“Yeah, it’s killing me. I can’t get comfortable. I can’t sleep anymore.”

“Anymore? How long has this been going on for?”

“Awhile. I thought it would go away. Damn it!” Sam cursed to himself and then curled over to his right side, with his back to Dean. He huffed away again, rolling his hips (as much as you could on a hard floor) and kept cursing away. “Dean, this really hurts.”

“Okay, okay,” Dean quickly got up from the bed and joined his brother on the floor. Sam barely made a move. Dean doesn't think he could move because he was in so much pain. “Listen, can you try and get up?”

Sam groaned, but that didn't stop Dean pulling him up into a sitting position. “Quit whining and do it.”

“Jackass,” Sam groaned, but he pushed himself up from the floor. Dean instructed him to lean against the bed, his arms crossed for a place to rest his head. Dean had an idea that could help. He could give a good massage over the years (that’s what his ex-girlfriends used to tell him) so maybe this could help Sam relax.

In slow rhythmic circles, Dean kneaded the long expanse of his brother’s back. It seemed to be working because Sam’s complaints seemed to be dying away with every second. “Is that helping?”

“A little,” Sam whispered. “Can you move over to the left a bit?”

Dean did as he was told and Sam practically melted under his touch. Yikes, the pain must have been really bad if Sam was letting this go on. “You want to tell me how long this has been going on for?”

“Two weeks,” Sam admitted. “But it’s never been this bad.”

“You didn't say anything for two weeks?” Dean asked incredulously.

“I didn't think it would be an issue.”

“Damn it, Sammy!”

“I’m sorry, okay?” Sam argued, but there was no bite to it. “You’ve been busy.”

“I don’t care about that. You need to tell me when something is wrong.”

“I will.”

But Dean had to make sure. “Promise?”

“Promise,” Sam agreed.

Dean smiled to himself, with his thumb rolling into a particularly hard knot. “Okay, that’s good.”

“Thanks, Dean,” Sam mumbled. “Can you do this when I’m in bed? I’m about to fall asleep.”

Dean giggled to himself. “Whatever, princess.”

 

* * *

 

Then it was the mood swings.

And boy did Sam get mood swings…

It had gotten so bad that Dean felt like he couldn't say anything around Sam without getting his bitch slapped expression thrown his way. Heck. He even thinks Dean’s mere presence is enough to get Sam into a mood. He was just always in a mood! Damn it! What the hell was happening to him?

But just as Dean was getting used to the bitchy attitude, Sam was suddenly acting like they were the greatest friends in the world. It was fucking confusing. One day Sam would be snapping at every move Dean made, the next he will be throwing his arm around his shoulders and talking like everything was okay.

It even had Cas confused. Now that was saying something.

But a particularly weird mood swing that happened was when they were searching for a coven in Illinois. Dean had packed the car, ready for them to drive home, but for some reason Sam was taking ages getting ready this morning. After another fifteen minutes of Dean huffing and puffing outside, he decided he had enough and pushed himself off the Impala. The moment he got into the motel room, Dean saw the packed bags waiting on the bed, but no sign of his little brother.

It wasn't until he heard a grunt in the bathroom. Dean would've thought Sam was enjoying some ‘quality’ time to himself if it wasn't for the sigh of annoyance he huffed out. When Dean leaned closer to the door, he heard Sam repeating a mantra to himself the whole time. “Come on, come on…”

Weird, Dean thought. He knocked on the door carefully. “Sam, you okay?”

“No, I’m not,” he groaned.

Without another word, Dean pushed the door open. It was unlocked, and the sight he saw was an odd one.

Sam was standing in front of the mirror. He had the seam of his shirt in his mouth, keeping it up while he was pulling the buttons of his jeans together. It seemed to be in vain, since they were in no way close to meeting the other. Actually, now that Dean was seeing it, his jeans were looking very snug these days. He didn't say anything about it. Both brothers had cut back on hunting these days, of course they would have piled on a few pounds, but this was more than a few pounds. More like ten, maybe. It was enough to make his six pack curve out in the slightest. When did that happen?

“You’re not even dressed yet. What’s going on?” Dean asked.

Sam groaned. “Obviously, I’m having trouble with my jeans.”

No shit, Sherlock. “Just change them for another. I told Cas we would be home soon. He said he could keep Asher up until I get there.”

Dean realised too late that he said the wrong thing because the minute those words were out of his mouth, Sam’s face dropped. He looked… ashamed of himself. Dean wasn't sure why, but Sam didn't give him the chance to say anything. “I have put on another pair. Many pairs. These are the third pair of jeans I’ve put on. None of them fit.”

Dean wasn’t surprised by that at all. It’s not like he could miss Sam’s stomach sticking out from the open zipper. “Dude, you’ve put on some weight. It’s no big deal.”

“It is a big deal!” Sam almost screamed at him. “I can’t fit into my clothes anymore. How is it not a big deal?”

“Sam, it happens. It’s nothing to be…”

Dean was just about to say something when he noticed something very unusual. Sam was covering up his face and closing his eyes tightly. If Dean didn't know Sam as well as he does, it would look like his brother was standing like he didn't care. Only… Dean knew what this was. This was Sam trying to hide his emotions and that only happened when he didn't want people to see that…

“Dude… are you… crying?”

“No,” Sam whispered, but it was too late. His voice was hoarse and scratchy and it was going to be less than a few seconds until Sam was about to break. And just on point, Sam was wiping a tear away from his cheeks. “I’m sorry.”

Dean was a little confused at this point. He had no idea what was happening. “What for?”

“I don’t know,” Sam shook his head. “I know I haven’t… I don’t know what’s happening to me. I’m all over the place.”

“Okay, okay. Is this to do with your back? I thought we fixed that?”

After that case Dean made sure that Sam was booked in to see a chiropractor because Sam was not getting better in the slightest. His back was killer and Dean couldn't handle seeing him in so much pain anymore. He even went with Sam to his first appointment. Well, he waited in the lobby while Sam was in there, but it seemed to be working. He was getting better and that had been a month ago, at least.

That’s what Dean thought, anyway. He didn't know Sam had gotten so worked up.

“It’s not just that,” Sam sobbed. “I just… I’m tired.”

“I know it’s been a hard few days—”

“I’m really tired. All the time. I haven’t been able to properly sleep in the past few days. I can never get comfortable.”

“We can get you a new bed—”

“I’m putting on weight.”

“So have I, it happens—”

“And my nipples hurt.”

That was the one that caught Dean off-guard. “Your — what?”

“They hurt! It’s like everything that touches them feels like sand paper — It’s not funny!”

Dean shook his head. “I am seriously not laughing.”

“You think I’m lying.”

“Sam, I am not thinking anything like that,” Dean tried to comfort, but Sam looked like he was getting more distressed by the second. “Hey, Sam. Sam, talk to me. What’s going on with you?”

“I don’t know, I…uh,” Sam gave up trying to articulate his thoughts, but Dean doubted he knew what those thoughts were. “I just want to go home.”

“Yeah, we can do that,” Dean agreed, but Sam was so distressed and upset that Dean was certain he would agree to anything more ridiculous than that just to make him happy. “We can do that. Let’s just go home. It’s only an hour away, we’ll be there in no time. Okay?”

“Okay,” Sam agreed with a sniffled. His eyes had gone red and sore from all the crying. In the end, Dean ended up taking the rest of Sam’s things in the car. Sam didn't even bother with the jeans anymore and shoved on his stretchy sweats that he only used for sleeping. The fact that he was even walking outside with those in the daylight only told Dean this was more serious than he was being led to believe.

By the time they got home, Sam was able to get some sleep. Dean was almost reluctant to wake him up when they finally did make it to the Bunker, but he had no choice. But he didn't have to in the end. Sam just woke up with a startle. A hand flew to his side and rubbed at the area. When Dean looked at his face, Sam had an odd expression. “You alright, man?”

“Yeah,” Sam said unconvinced. “Let’s just get in.”

Sam got out of the car and Dean was not too far behind. He was desperate to be home just as much as Sam seemed to be. He texted Cas earlier today to say that they would be home. And when they walked thought the doors, Dean was met with the familiar feel of home and an excited four year old running towards his direction. “Dad!”

“Hey, buddy!” Dean scooped up Asher into his arms and hugged him close to his chest. “Oh, I missed you. You been good?”

“Yep.”

“Would you be lying to me if you weren’t?”

Asher gave him a cheek grin. “No…”

“That’s my boy,” Dean said proudly and gave the kid a kiss on his cheek. Soon, they were joined by Cas and Dean gave his a kiss. “Hi, sorry it took so long to get back.”

“It’s fine. Did something happen?” Cas asked.

“Um, yeah, though I don't know how to explain it.”

“Is it about Sam?”

Cas knew Dean had some concerns about his brother and he wasn't the only one. Even Cas was beginning to see something happen and should've pushed Sam a bit more after that incident today, but the next thing he knew, Asher was begging for his attention and the rest of the day kind of melted away from there. The only time he was able to see Sam throughout the day was when Sam was about to head off the bed. He was lucky he was able to see him before he went, but when he spotted him Dean went straight over.

But when he got closer, Dean couldn't help but notice that Sam’s expression was twisted up in pain and he was holding onto the wall for support. He didn't even notice that Dean was standing next to him until his brother had placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Sam, you okay?”

“Yeah, just…” Sam drifted off, rubbing his back lightly. “Just feeling a little weird. I’m going to get an early night. See you in the morning.”

“Yeah, night,” Dean said. “But if you need to talk tomorrow, don't be afraid to say anything.”

“I know. Night, Dean.”

And Sam scurried away into his bedroom and closed the door behind him. Odd. Dean has no idea what the hell is going on with Sam lately, but he needs to do something about it. Sooner than later. He was even close to knocking on his door when Asher suddenly grabbed his hand and he is being pulled back into their game of make believe again. So Dean promises himself that he will talk to Sam tomorrow.

Yeah, they will sort this out tomorrow.

 

* * *

 

Which eventually leads them to later that night.

Dean was awoken to the familiar ringtone of his cell. His hand roamed over to the bedside table and felt around for it until it was in his palm. Dean flinched from the bright glow of the screen, but he blinked to check the time — five am. Who the hell is calling at this hour?

Dean swiped to answer the phone. He dropped his head back to the pillow and balanced the phone onto his ear. “‘ello?” Dean whispered. Cas was still sleeping by his side. He didn't want to wake him up.

“Dean?”

That woke Dean up a bit. He lifted his head up. “Sammy? Why are you calling?”

“Dean…” Sam whispered again, but his voice was tight and pained. All Dean could hear for a good few seconds was Sam rushed pants and groans. “Something is really wrong with me.”

“What?” Dean sat up. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know, ah! I’m in a lot of pain and it’s only getting worse — Oh God!”

“Sam?” Dean called out through the phone, but Sam wasn't answering him. He was too caught up in his cries of agony to hear what Dean was saying. “Sam!”

Like Dean said, the signs were there and he is a humungous idiot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you like it?
> 
> Blame all errors on my exhaustion.
> 
> Until next time.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... things get a little graphic.
> 
> Sorry.

“Sam? Sammy?!”

In the middle of his frantic call, the phone must have disconnected because there was no sign of his brother on the other line. All he got was static and silence, and it was bringing up a rising panic in Dean’s chest. That phone call was weird in itself, but Dean had never heard Sam be in so much pain.

Dean glanced over his shoulder — Cas was still asleep. He was always a heavy sleeper since he became human. He could probably sleep through an earthquake and he wouldn't wake up. As quietly as he could, Dean pulled back his covers and tiptoed out of the room. He paused when Cas rolled over to his other side but was blissfully oblivious to the world again. Dean waited a few seconds before he opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. Once he carefully and quietly shut the bedroom door, he bolted through the Bunker in rapid speed.

He was in front of Sam’s room in an instant and knocked on the door, with a heavy fist. “Sam? Sam, are you okay?”

“Dean?” Sam’s voice called out from behind the door. He sounded so weak and miserable, but when Dean pressed his ear against the door, he could hear his little brother on the opposite side cursing away, loud enough for Dean to hear. When he heard Sam cry out softly, Dean couldn't take it anymore.

The brothers usually lock their bedroom doors at night. Well, Sam made more of a habit of it than Dean did, so the elder Winchester had to step back from the door and kick it down with his heavy foot. It took him four well aimed kicks and soon the door was flying open at its hinges.

Dean couldn't see Sam at first. The room was too dark, but he was near by, guessing on the hasty panting that filled the silence. The hunter had to sharpen his gaze under the dark room, but he was able to find him, eventually.

Sam was kneeling on the floor. His head was resting on his crossed arms laying on the bed, with his spine curling in on himself. Every single muscle of his was tense and stiff with the sting that was rippling through his body, so much so that Sam didn't even notice that Dean had kicked down the door. Or he didn't care. And judging by the wounded growl he gave once the pain seemed to subside, Dean would go for the latter.

“Jesus,” Dean muttered. He tiptoed over the wrecked door and crouched over to his brother’s side. “Sam? Sam, hey. It’s me, it’s me.”

Sam was too focused on taking deep breaths to answer Dean, but he lifted his head a little and gave a quick nod. It wasn't much, but it was an acknowledgement all the same. It did little to calm Dean down, though. “Sam, talk to me, buddy. What’s going on?”

“Uh, I don’t know,” Sam winced. He drops his head back on his arms and whimpers. “It just hurts all the damn time.”

“Wh-what happened? I thought you said you didn't get hurt on the case?”

“I didn’t. I was fine until — ow! I was fine until we got out of the car.”

The car? That was hours ago. Heck, it was almost twenty four hours ago. A whole day, and Sam is only talking about this now? “What did you do?” Dean demanded. “Damn it, Sam! What did you do?”

“Nothing! I didn't do anything!” Sam argued back.

“Okay, okay.” Dean tried to calm himself down. Freaking out will not do him any good, but he couldn't help it. He’s never seen Sam like this, not even when they’ve been through the worst injuries possible, he has never been like… this. “Okay, what’s happening to you? Where’s the pain?”

It took Sam a moment to answer that. “Uh, here,” Sam finally moved his hand, although limply and blindly, out to try and find Dean’s hand. Once he found it, he gripped it tight and pulled it forward until Dean’s hand was pressed up against Sam’s abdomen. “And sometimes my back.”

“Do you feel like you want to throw up?” Dean asked.

Sam took a moment to answer, as if he was checking to see what he was feeling besides the throbbing ache. He shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

All right, no nausea. That was good, but that doesn't explain the rest of what was going on. In a reflex that went back from when Dean was a kid, he lifted Sam’s head up from where it was resting on his arms. He didn't even realise he did it until he could see his brother’s face. It was the first thing he would do when Sam complained of being ill when he was a kid. It was something that was ingrained in him.

But the sight of Sam was more than he had bargained for. Not only was Sam feeling sick, but his skin was shining with clammy sweat. His hair was sticking to his forehead and his neck, and it was cold to the touch. Dean wiped some of it away from his brow and placed his palm against his forehead. “Whoa, Sammy, you’re burning up. It could be appendicitis. You never had your appendix out.”

“Dean,” Sam answered tightly.

“It’s okay, we’ll just take you to the hospital—”

“Dean, it’s—”

That shut Dean up right away. Something was different this time. Something wasn't right. “Sam?”

“Dean,” Sam croaked out. His eyes were wide and panicked, and he was reaching out for his brother and grabbing hold of his shoulders. His chest seemed to be working over time with every heave, like he couldn't get any air in his lungs. “Oh, fuck, it’s happening again.”

“What’s happening? Sam?”

But the next thing Dean knew, Sam had dropped his head onto Dean’s shoulder. Before he could ask what was wrong, Sam let out the most agonised scream he had ever heard in his life. The hold on his brother went as tight as a vice grip, and every muscle in his body tensed in a way that it looked like Sam was incapable of moving his body. Dean didn't know what to do but hold Sam through the entire thing. He tried to rub a hand down his back, but he flinched at how much Sam was trembling under his touch. It wasn't doing any good. He was feeling so useless right now.

That seemed to be going on forever. Sam was trying his best to keep the screaming at bay, but the pain was all over his body, in every cell. If Sam had been going through this for hours, he must be completely exhausted. Dean didn't like to think too much on that thought. Seeing him like this now was causing him distress. He definitely didn't want to think about Sam suffering in silence.

If the issue was coming from his stomach, then Dean reasoned that he should check on that. He ran his hand down his back and to his front until his hand is pressed to the bloated curve of his—

For the love of God, Dean swore he felt something when Sam began to scream past his clenched teeth. He can't be sure what it was, but it almost felt as if the muscles on his abdomen tightened and contracted under the soft skin of his palm. It lasted for as long as Sam screamed, and it felt like forever.

“Holy shit,” was all Dean said, but he was trying his best to stay calm. Or look calm. He was having a mini freak out in his head at the moment.

Holy shit, this is bad. This is very, very bad.

The second the pain finally passed, Sam collapsed against his brother’s chest. He panted heavily, his limbs going from tense rocks to soppy noodles in less than a nano second. Dean could feel how winded he is from the sheer act alone, and he knew that he couldn't keep stalling like this. Something was really wrong.

Dean began to manoeuvre Sam until he was resting against it with his back against the bed. He didn't seem to be complaining, though. He was still huffing away in the midst of letting his body recover from the… whatever that was. “Sam? Sam, just try and relax. I’m gonna get some help.”

Sam didn't react. Dean doubted he even heard him, but the elder hunter was on his feet and looking around the room for anything he can call on. He couldn't see anything. They didn't have a landline (who has a landline these days?) so there was no phone in sight. Damn it! This is not good. How were they going to get—

Wait. Sam called him. So there must be a phone near by.

Dean turned his direction to the bed, and there it was. Sam’s cell phone laying on the covers.

Dean never rushed for something so fast before. His hands were shaking by the time he grabbed it. He could barely press the right places on the screen before he was able to get the right digits down. After a few attempts (and a lot of cursing) Dean had never heard the sound of dial tone be so beautiful.

The minute he heard someone answer, Dean didn't wait a single second more. “Hi, yes. I need an ambulance. Fast, my brother is—”

“Thank you for your call,” said the robotic voice of the call operator. “You have now been placed in a line.”

Dean frowned. “A line? Since when does emergency services put people in a line—”

“One of our operators will speak with you.”

“Thank God,” Dean sighed.

“In approximately one hundred and nineteen years.”

Dean blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Please hold until then.”

“For one hundred and nineteen years? Is this a prank?”

But the robotic voice just kept talking. “And once you have spoken to our operators on what service you require, it will take another fifty six years for your call to be re-routed.”

Huh? “I’m, uh— what?”

“I’m sorry. I didn't catch that. Please wait another ten years for you to repeat your statement.”

“Oh, forget it!” Dean immediately hung up, but he stared at the screen with a creased brow. That had to be one of the weirdest conversations he has ever had.

“Dean,” Sam huffed out. He was watching Dean intently. He must be getting some of his senses back now that he had a minute to recuperate. “What is it? What happened?”

“I’m not sure,” Dean muttered and chucked the phone back on the bed. “I can’t really explain it. It doesn't matter. I’ll grab your stuff. I have take you to the hospital myself.”

Dean was just about to gather some of Sam’s stuff in preparation for the emergency trip, but there was suddenly a hand on his leg that stopped him in his tracks. “No, no — I can’t move, I can’t move! Please don’t make me move…”

“Sam, you need to go to the hospital.”

“No. I’m fine. See? I’m feeling better already—”

Sam never finished his sentence. He was seized up by a new wave of discomfort. Not as bad as it was before, but enough to leave him breathless and clutching his stomach. The sight of it had Dean shaking his head to himself.

“Feeling better my ass. If this is appendicitis, we need to get you to the hospital, and pronto.”

Sam clenched his eyes shut and tried to rub his back from where he was sitting. “But it’s not that. I had them out when I was in Stanford.”

Dean blinked at that piece of information. “You never told me that.”

“It never came up.”

“So what’s going on?” Dean asked.

“I don’t know. M-Maybe it’s—it’s just the stomach flu. I’ll be fine.”

“You are not fine,” Dean pointed out.

“Dean…”

“Sam—”

“Dean, can we just wait this out?” Sam begged, running a hand through his sweat soaked hair out of his eyes. “If it doesn't get any better, we’ll try and get an ambulance again. Please?”

Nope, Dean did not like it at all. If he had his way, he would've gotten Sam in the Impala and they’d be driving down to the nearest ER. Heck, he probably would've carried him out there himself, but he had to have a stubborn ass brother. And Sam did not look like he was ready to be moved. He could barely keep his head up with the way it was resting against the bed and his limbs laying limp by his side. By the way things were going, there didn't seem to be much Dean can do. Except wait for, apparently, one hundred and nineteen years for a 911 operator. What the fuck was that about?

“Fine. We’ll wait,” Dean agreed. “But if it doesn't get any better, I am taking you to the hospital. Got it?”

“Got it.”

Dean hoped, for Sam’s sake, that whatever it was will go away soon.

Sam groaned in discomfort from where he was sitting on the floor.

Very soon.

 

* * *

 

Thirty minutes after that conversation and so far…

“Damn it, Sam! Those are my fingers you're crushing!”

“Well, I’m sorry I’m hurting you!” Sam mocked, but he was basically telling Dean to go fuck himself.

“You know, if you had gotten into my car and we went to the hospital like I told you to do, you might not be screaming right now.”

“And if you stop being such a smart ass and decided to shut up, you might not get a black eye from when I decide to punch you!”

“Please, you wouldn't even make a dent.”

The only response he got from his brother was a growl that was more annoyed than it was pained. Dean had no idea how they had gotten to the point, but here they were, with Sam latching onto Dean’s hands and threatening to crush them into dust. The elder Winchester was trying to fight off the urge to curse himself because Sam was strong. He thinks his hands are probably broken right now.

Sam eventually lets go of his hands and he falls back against the head board. He finally released his hold on Dean’s hands and he shook them just to get the blood flow back into his fingertips. Dean even swears he heard them crack, but they don't feel broken. That was good. Although, Dean wasn't sure that Sam was going to agree. Dean was just about to say something when Sam took in a shuddering breath and rubbed his hand over his clammy face. “Sorry, Dean.”

“Hey, it’s fine. But can I please call the ambulance again?”

Sam waved his hand, so Dean assumed that was a yes.

The hunter patted the bedsheets until he felt the cool phone on the bed. He dialled the numbers again and placed the phone to his ear until he heard the dial tone.

It was at that moment that he felt Sam grab his forearm. “Sam?”

“Uh, not again—” Sam gritted out, but there was nothing more he could say. His face had gone cherry red in the pure effort of trying not to scream, but that didn't stop the choked anguish from seeping out. Every single wave was taking more out of Sam as it went on, but they seemed to be lasting longer and coming faster than before. It was getting harder for Sam to cope with it all, and Dean was struggling just to stand back and watch it happen.

The longer the dial tone kept ringing, the more anxious Dean got. “Damn it, pick up!”

Like a twist of fate, the other line picked up. “Hello.”

“Yes, hi. I need you guys to send an ambulance—”

“Welcome to the Casa Erotica phone line.”

Dean blinked.“What?”

“Where all your fantasies are yours with just the click of a button and service charge.”

Dean had to check the numbers he dialled. Nope. Definitely 911.

“So strap in and choose one of our beautiful Goddesses on offer to give you a night to—”

“Never mind.”

Dean quickly hung up. He didn't like the way that conversation was heading.

Once the call was over, so was the agony Sam went through. He collapsed against the headboard and huffing away like he just ran a marathon. Dean was instantly by his side to check on him. “Sammy, are you okay?”

Sam’s eyes were closed and his chest was heaving. “It’s hot.”

“You're hot?” Dean asked. From the corner of his eye he saw something that he could use as a makeshift fan. He grabbed it and began to frantically fan it over Sam’s face.

Sam barely stirred under the small breeze, but it was not what he wanted. “No! Uh… get this off. Get this off me!”

Sam was beginning to pull at his t-shirt, that was now dark with patchy sweat stains, and tried to get it over his head. His coordination was all over the place, so Dean had to step in and help to tug the shirt over his head. Once it was off, Dean discarded it across the room. He thinks he heard it hit something, but he didn't care to look. He was too busy checking on Sam.

So far, from what he could see, there didn't seem to be anything physically wrong. There weren't any injuries, or any bruises that could be causing this. For some reason, Dean thinks he would understand it more if there was an injury. They've dealt with that stuff before, and they know how to fix those. They have no idea what is going on with Sam now. They’ve probably listed off most of the illnesses they could think off, but they’ve still come up with nothing. What the hell is happening…

Dean places his hand on Sam’s forehead to check his temperature. No fever. The sweat was just a reaction to all the exertion going through Sam and it was weakening him more and more as the pain hit. But no fever is good. That means no infection. Now they have to figure out what this not-an-infection illness is. “Do you want a heating pad?”

“No, I don’t want a heating pad! Why would I want a heating pad?” Sam snapped.

“I just thought… for your back?”

Sam must not have realised he was rubbing his back again now that he had rolled up on his side. He just looked down at where it was placed, as if completely surprised by how it got there. “That’s actually not a bad idea.”

“I’ll go get one.”

Dean was about to stand, but there was a grip on his arm that stopped him in his tracks. He glanced down to see Sam looking up at him with fearful eyes. “No! No! Please don’t leave. Don’t leave!”

“I have to get the heating pad. The only one we have is in my bathroom,” Dean pointed out.

“You need a heating pad?” Sam asked.

“Well, no, but Cas likes to have one when it’s his time of the month so…”

Yeah, heating pads are an essential item in their household, but that’s not the point. Sam didn't seem to be interested in the explanation Dean gave. He kept his hand on Dean’s arm and looked up at him with watery eyes. “Dean, I don't want to be left alone like this.”

The shake in his brother’s voice was enough to still Dean in his tracks. “Okay, okay, I won’t leave.”

That was enough to calm Sam down for a moment, but that didn't change the fact that he was gripping his side in further discomfort. Nothing Dean was doing was helping, and if the phone was going to keep playing games on him, it didn't look like it was going to get any better. There must be something in Sam’s bedroom that could help. Anything. Even if it was—

Then Dean’s eyes landed on Sam’s ensuite. Dean got up from the bed and opened the door to peer inside. If all the bathrooms in the Bunker were the same, then that means—

And there was one. Dean smiled to himself and looked over at Sam on the bed.

“I know you said you can’t walk, but can you try a little distance?”

 

* * *

 

Dean will forever thank the man who designed the Bunker. The idea for having an ensuite in ever bedroom in this place was the golden standard of good ideas. Golden!

It took some shuffling and carrying, but Dean was able to get Sam in the bathtub without problem. He blasted the hot and cold water on, and the tub was beginning to fill up. Sam didn't seem to be complaining. He was strangely quiet once the water was high enough. Dean assumed maybe it was working. His face was as serene as it could be, with the occasional wince there and then, but it was helping. That was all that mattered.

Dean saw a wash cloth by the stand. He picked it up and soaked it in the water to bring it up to Sam’s face. The younger Winchester didn't fuss this time. He let his brother wipe away the remaining sweat lingering on his brow.

“Is this helping?” Dean asked.

“A little,” Sam muttered.

Dean smiled to himself. Nice to know he isn't so useless. “Do you want me to add some bubbles, like old times?”

Dean was referring to the times when dad would be out on a case, and he had to watch out for Sammy while he was away. If you had to sum up Dean’s life with a simple phrase, it would be ‘watch out for Sammy’ all the way. He was only a kid back then and he was already playing the role of parent to his little brother. But it wasn't all bad. They had some fun moments. Like the times they watched TV until all the way into the late night, all the junk food they ate, the great times the had… But Dean’s favourite memories are the bubble baths they took. There would always be a bottle of that stuff hidden away in the cupboards of the motel rooms, so they were never out of the stuff. Sam used to like it when they filled the tub to the highest level and they would dump the entire bottle in, just because it created the most bubbles. It would make a mess, but man it was fun. Dean used to gather the bubbles on top of Sam’s head and make it look like a hat, or anything else. Sam would form Dean’s to make it look like he had a Gandalf beard, and the whole night would just erupt into giggles and laughter.

Sam must have remembered that too because he heard something that was similar to a laugh and a smirk. “Nah, I’m good.” Sam took in a deep breath and breathed out in a long exhale. It helped him to relax further into the tub, up until his neck was resting against the rim. “Distract me.”

“What?”

“Distract me. I need to… I need to get outta my head.”

“Um…” Dean tried to wrack his brain so he could find something that would help. Once he found it, Dean began to speak. “Do you remember when you were thirteen? It was your birthday? We were on a case in Ohio, and we had to hunt with dad. You kept bitching the whole time because you wanted to do something fun, like see a movie, or go get some cake, but dad wouldn't let you. He said we had work to do.”

Sam kept his eyes closed, but he nodded, so Dean carried on.

“Dad had left us alone. He told us we had to search out on something, but I was so annoyed with your moaning I decided to take you on a little trip. Do you remember where we went?”

Sam smiled to himself. Dean knew instantly that Sam knew the answer. “The carnival…”

“The carnival!” Dean boasted.

“I remember that. I also remember how much trouble you got in for taking me.”

“It was nothing I couldn't handle,” Dean muttered and shrugged. He remembered that fight. It’s not something he wanted to think about. “We had a good day.”

“Yeah, we did,” Sam smiled. “I had never been to a carnival before that. You let me win the stuffed Seuss doll at the end…”

“The cat in the hat stuffed doll? Yeah, after I had spent five dollars trying to win it for myself,” Dean chuckled.

“Hey, you were the one that offered. You know, I think still have that doll somewhere in the—”

Sam never had the chance to finish. Dean could see the signs of the impending pain getting ready to wash over him again. The tensing muscles, the wide eyes, the flush on his neck. It was just about to happen. Sam’s hands grasped the porcelain rim, his back beginning to curve in on himself. His muscles were constricting with the agony now. Sam looked like he was ready to yell from the feel of it, so much so that he grabbed a wet rag and stuffed it into his mouth. When the pain became too much, Sam’s screams were muffled by the frayed cloth.

Dean gathered Sam’s hands in his. He let Sam crush his fingers in a death grip the whole time the pain consumed him.

It seemed to go on forever. Every time it happened, the pain seemed to last longer and longer. How Sam is able to stand it, Dean has no idea. By the time it did dissipate, Sam collapsed back against the tub, with his tongue pushing out the rag just so he can take in deep breaths.

Something was different this time, though. Dean could see it in his brother’s eyes. Something else was wrong. “Sammy?”

“I just felt something,” Sam whispered.

“What do you mean?”

“Dean? Dean, what is that?”

Sam pointed to the bath water. When Dean looked in the tub, he could see why Sam was beginning to freak. The clear water was starting to change colour, a sort of off yellow with a pink tinge in it, as well, and it seemed to be coming from Sam. “Are you bleeding?”

Sam yelped at the sight of the water. His eyes were watery and he was pushing himself out of the tub just to get away from it. “Dean!”

“Get out of the tub, get out of the tub,” Dean told him. Sam didn't question his brother and pushed himself out of the warm water with Dean helping him to his feet. The water was dripping off his skin and onto the floor. Dean couldn't help notice that there was a lot more water coming down Sam’s legs than usual, but he threw it aside. He grabbed a towel and wrapped it around Sam’s waist. “You don’t want to be in water if you’re bleeding.”

Sam didn't answer. He just shook from the chill. Or from the pain. Dean doesn't think there is a difference anymore.

Sam had a distant look in his eyes. “Something’s really wrong.”

“I know, we will fix it—”

“No, Dean,” Sam’s voice was insistent. “Something is really wrong. Something is… damn it! It just hurts!”

Sam was getting more distressed by the second. Dean put his hand on his shoulder and guided Sam back into his room. The second they were close to the bed, Sam’s knees gave out and he was kneeling on the floor. He dropped his head into the covers and he groaned out another cry of pain in the process. Dean tried to rub his shoulders, but his back was rigid to the touch.

There was only so much Dean could take of seeing Sam like this. Dean dropped down to Sam’s level and grabbed his brother by the shoulders, until he was facing him. “Sam, for crying out loud, let me call an ambulance!”

Whether Sam could hear him was another issue. From the look in his eye, he didn't seem to be aware of anything other than the pain. Sam used Dean’s shoulders as an anchor. His hands twitched and spasmed, his breathing quick and gasping. He dropped his head down to Dean’s chest and moaned in in discomfort. The only thing Dean could do was hold him though the whole thing. He can’t take this anymore. “Sam, please let me get some help!”

Sam could barley answer and shook in his brother’s arms. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door that made Dean jump. “Dean?”

Dean relaxed at that. He recognised that voice. “Cas?”

The door opened and Cas peered inside. His eyes landed on the two Winchesters and stepped into the room. “Dean? Sam? What’s happening?”

“Cas, it’s early. What are you doing up?”

Cas closed the door behind him and tied up the string of his robe. “I woke up and I noticed you weren't there. I went to see if you were okay, but then I heard your voice coming from — what is going on?”

“Something’s wrong with Sam,” Dean told him.

Cas was immediately worried. “With Sam? What is it?”

“We don’t know. But it’s bad.”

“I will call the necessary services.”

“You can try, but I keep getting the weirdest re-routes.”

“I will try, nonetheless.”

Cas spotted the phone on the bed and began to dial. Whilst he was busy with that, Dean turned his attention back to Sam. His little brother hadn't moved much from his spot and was still heaving air into his lungs like he could barely breathe. But there was a strange look settling on Sam’s face that was beginning to make Dean uneasy. “Hey, Sam? Sammy, keep it together, man, okay? What’s going through your head right now?”

Sam shook his head. The tears were beginning to roll fast and heavy. He tried to tuck his face back on Dean’s shoulder, but Dean wasn't having any of it.

“No, no, no, Sam. Don’t do that. I need you to answer me. What are you thinking?”

“I don’t understand,” Cas’ confused tone was a break from the one sided conversation Dean was having. The hunter glanced up. Cas was on the phone, but he seemed just baffled as Dean was during his earlier phone conversation. “Why is the running of my refrigerator an important question for the emergency services?”

“Cas, hang up, hang up,” Dean instructed. Cas ended the call and stared down at the device in his hand.

“That was a peculiar conversation,” Cas noted.

“The phone’s been doing that all night. I can’t get through to anyone in 911.”

Cas kneeled down beside them. “No one? How is that possible?”

“I’m not sure,” Dean shrugged. He couldn't care about the phone right now. He had more pressing matters. He lifted Sam’s face into his hands and made Sam look him directly in the eye. It was a sorry sight. Sam’s eyes were swimming in tears and his skin had turned an unhealthy shade of red. Dean’s thumbs wiped away some of the tear tracks on his cheeks as he prepared himself for what he had to do.

“Sam, I need you to listen to me very carefully. We can’t get an ambulance here. I know you don't want to, but I have to do something. This isn't normal. Something is wrong here and we have to get some help. You can’t hide it anymore. And if it is this bad and we continue to do nothing… something bad might happen, and I can’t lose you. I can’t. So please, please Sammy, let me get you some help. Please, let me try and save you.”

Sam was unnervingly silent the whole time. He stared at Dean the whole time, he never made a move, but Dean could feel stress radiating off him, but it was different from the one he felt earlier. There seemed to be an urgency around it. It was all there in Sam’s body language, but there was something Dean couldn't put his finger on. Sam seemed to be fighting something. He was putting all of his effort in trying to go against it, and Dean has no idea what that could be.

Sam sucked in a deep breath and tried to calm himself down, Dean assumed. It didn't seem to work because it did nothing to get rid of the strain in his muscles. Sam closed his eyes for a quick second and when he opened them again, he looked straight into Dean’s eyes with an essence of child like vulnerability he had not seen in years.

“Dean, take me to the hospital,” Sam whispered.

Dean’s shoulder slumped in relief and he placed a quick kiss on Sam’s forehead. “Okay… Sam, Cas will stay with you. I’ll go get the car ready. If I get it into the garage, it will be less of a walk for you. I’ll be as fast as I can.”

In the midst of his talking, Dean manoeuvred Sam’s arms until they were wrapped around Cas’ shoulders and brought Cas closer until he was filling in Dean’s role. Cas didn't complain. He simply copied Dean’s position and acted as Sam’s rock. When Dean reached the door, he gave one last glance back until he opened the door and started running.

 

* * *

 

Dean ran out of the Bunker as fast as his human legs could manage. He had just barely remembered to grab his car keys before he made it out to the front. He was too focused on getting to the car to think of anything else.

The cool night air was amazing against his skin. Dean hadn't realised that he had been sweating the whole time. The air only made his clammy skin go cold at the breeze. Dean shivered against it but ignored it. He could see the Impala parked not to far away.

But something was not right. It was only when Dean got close enough that he saw what it was. “What the hell?”

Dean could only stare at first because it was just bizarre. Once he got some clarity back, he took a few steps and crouched to the side of the car, next to the door.

The first thing he noticed was the colour. The bright, obnoxious colours of the wheels that were not the ones he replaced a months ago. Not the high end ones he had invested a lot of money in. In their place, instead, were rounds and rounds of long, loud, and in your face masses of latex full of air. The same ones clowns use to make animals.

“Balloons?” Dean uttered, not believing what he was seeing. Once the shock had died down a bit, then the anger started to set in. “Balloons? Who the hell— Balloons!”

Not only were his wheels now replaced with balloons, there were no signs of Dean’s wheels at all. Even if he did see them, it would take awhile to fit each one back on, and Sam didn't seem to have the time to wait.

Oh, no. This is bad. They had no phone, no working car, and Sam was only getting worse by the second.

They were stuck here.

 

* * *

 

“Thank you for calling. We have registered your interest in the GoScrewYourself Society. If you wish to become an honorary member, please state the reasons why you are an asshole and all the other qualities that make you a horrible person—”

Dean had to hang up again. This is the strangest night of his entire life and it’s not even six am yet.

But this is bad because they had no way of getting to the hospital now. The phone was going haywire on him. It wasn't even just for 911. It was with any call now. That was the cab company he had just dialled and even that was re-routing him to the dark side of the phone world. And now there was his car — his car! — that was now a balloon display, so they were truly fuck. But how the hell are they going to get Sam help? Dean doesn't know how much more Sam can take of this…

Dean ran his hands through his hair. He didn't know what to do.

His anxiety got even worse when he heard Sam’s scream drifting down the hallway. He didn't even think about rushing back to the room. It was probably just a reflex at this point. Sam is in trouble, Dean has to help.

He was making his way back to the room when he spotted a little boy at the door, stretching out on his feet to reach the door handle that was to high for him. “Asher?”

Asher was still dressed in his blue flannel pyjamas and tried to jump to get to the door handle. “Uncle Sam is screaming. Is it nearly time yet?”

Dean didn't listen to that. He placed his hands on his son’s shoulders and pushed him away from the door and to the direction of his bedroom. The last thing Dean wanted was Asher to see what was happening. “Buddy. I need you to go back to your room.”

Asher was resistant. With every push from Dean, the boy tried to go back. “But Uncle Sam needs my help. I want to be there when she arrives.”

“Buddy, no one is arriving.”

“Yes, she is. That’s why Uncle Sam is in pain. She’s ready to come out now.”

That was what caught Dean’s attention. The way Asher said that, and the fact that it was about Sam… he doesn't know whether it was because he was tired, or whether he was looking for any answer right now, but Dean turned Asher to face him and kneeled down to his level. “Ash, what are you talking about?”

“My cousin. Today’s her birthday.”

“Her birth —” Dean was about to say, but then the strangest thought entered his head. The things Asher was saying, the pain Sam was going through… he might have an idea what is happening. “Asher, did you do something?”

Asher shook his head. “It wasn't me. It was that naked lady in the library. She did it.”

Naked lady in the library—

Aphrodite.

That little…

“What did she do?”

 

* * *

 

When Dean was able to get Asher to go back to his own room, the hunter was in a bit of a daze. It was still difficult to get Asher to go back to bed with how excited he was, but he was able to get him there in the end. Dean couldn't even remember what he said to convince the little boy. Heck, he didn't even remember walking back to Sam’s room, but there he was. Back to the door and in his own head space.

It was only when another muffled scream broke him out of his daze that Dean was able to get some clarity.

_Focus, Dean. Focus. Sammy needs you right now._

Sam and Cas were still in the same position he was in when Dean left them, only Sam’s practically dripping in sweat and his muscles were locked with tension. Cas looked over to Dean, the concern fresh all over his features. “Sam, Dean is here. He has the car ready.”

“‘M ‘fraid not, Cas,” Dean said, and getting onto his knees next to Sam.

“Has something happened?” Cas asked.

“I’ll explain later,” Dean said. He turned his attention to his brother and tried to stay as calm as possible. “Sam, listen to me. I need you to do exactly what I tell you, okay?”

Sam was panting heavily on Cas’ shoulder. He opened his eyes and blinked up at Dean. “Why?”

“Sam, I don’t want you to panic. I know what’s wrong, but you wouldn't believe me if I told you what it was.”

Sam shook his head. “N-no, tell me.”

Dean was hoping to avoid this, but he didn't want to lie to Sam. Not now. But he also knows that if he told Sam the entire truth then he will just freak him out or put him into shock. “Do you remember that job we did a few months ago? That favour for Aphrodite? She might have done something.”

“What?” Sam tried to lift his head. “Dean, wha — ah!”

Sam was seized with a new wave of pain. Dean wasn't so freaked now that he… no, he was still freaked, but he wasn't worried about what was happening now. He knew. And he knew that Sam was trying to fight something that his body was begging him to do. “Look, we don't have a lot of time left. I need you to get comfortable.”

“No,” Sam was adamant.

Cas squeezed Sam’s shoulder gently in encouragement. “Sam, I highly advise you take Dean’s suggestion—”

“No, I-I can’t move.”

“Are you comfortable like this?” Dean asked.

Sam looked down at himself. “I think?”

“Cas? Are you all right there?”

Cas nodded. “I am well.”

“Okay, good. We’ll do it like this. Um, Sam, if you… feel anything, something that might be unusual… don’t fight it. It will help a lot.”

Sam had a weird look on his face and avoided Dean’s eye. “What do you mean?”

Sam’s evasiveness was all that Dean needed. “You know what I mean. You’re already feeling it, aren’t you? A… pressure?

Sam didn't answer, but he gave a quick nod.

“Sam, I know you are in a lot of pain right now, but I can tell you that if you do this, the pain will all be over. Just do it, okay? It will help.”

Sam’s body was beginning to shake again and his face grew tomato red from the effort. The tell tales signs Dean should've been aware of. “Dean, what’s going on?”

“Sammy, please. I need you to trust me.”

Maybe it was the desperation in Dean’s voice, or maybe it was Sam growing weaker from trying to ignore what his own body is desperately trying to do, but Sam gave Dean a curt nod. Permission. That was all Dean needed.

“Good. Then do it, Sam. Go crazy.”

Sam gave one more nod, sucked in a deep breath finally gave in.

Dean could see his body begin to work with the strain coursing through his body. Sam’s back curved in on himself, chin tucked into his chest at an angle that is probably uncomfortable for him, but he didn't seem to care. He yelled with the pain. A vein was popping out of his neck, his skin going flush, his hands digging into Cas’ shoulders.

“Oh, God, this hurts!” Sam gritted out.

“I know it does, Sam, but keep going,” Dean urged.

Not like Sam was going to stop, anyway. No matter how much he was in pain, whatever his body was telling him to do was the only rhythm he could focus on. His body strained and his body locked until the pain faded away, and Sam was collapsing against Cas’ chest and panting with ever reprieve. Dean doesn't know he was doing this, but he couldn't stop. It was a constant cycle and alway on loop.

It was after five minutes of this that Dean risked taking a look at what was going on. Sam was still wearing the towel that was wrapped around his waist, but it was struggling to keep ahold on him since Sam is spreading his legs as far apart as he can. Dean pulled the towel away and kept it by his side. He gave himself a minute before he braved it and took a look.

Dean nearly gasped in horror at what he saw. It was a miracle Sam could barely hear anything over the sound of his own groans, but he didn't hear Dean’s reaction. Cas did. Cas was looking at Dean with worry. He had seen Dean flinch. He was just about to ask what was wrong before Dean placed a finger over his lips, a sign to keep quiet. Cas eventually desisted. They didn't need to scare Sam even more.

In all his life, Dean had seen some weird and deranged things, but this… this was a new category in itself.

But it was clearly working. Sam’s pushing was doing everything it can and working overtime. Sam did everything to keep the screams at bay. Dean was surprised his face hadn't blown up yet.

When the next pain hit, Sam rolled into Cas like his life depended on it. He sobs with it. Dean watches the space between Sam’s legs. He flinches at what he sees.

“Keep going, Sam,” Dean supports. “Keep going. You’re doing good.”

“Holy shit!” Sam cursed and widened his legs further apart.

That would've usually been Cas’ opportunity to say his usual straight to the point remark, but he was unusually silent. Dean checked up on him. Cas was peering over Sam’s shoulder and followed Dean’s line of sight…

Cas’ eyes widened just as large as Deans. Of course he would know what’s happening. He had been in this situation before.

Sam dropped his head on Cas’ chest and cursed over and over again. It was obvious that the exertion was tiring him out, and Cas rubbed the hunter’s arms in an effort to try and comfort him, as little help as it was. “Sam, it would help you greatly if you push with the pain.”

“What?” Sam asked, his voice muffled into Cas' robe.

“Once the pain is over, take a break and only push when you feel it again. You will have more energy to face the pain and push.”

Sam huffed out a smirk. “Push? What do you mean push? You make it sound like I’m…” But when Sam lifted up his gaze to look at Cas, the former angel was void of humour. Cas was always a serious person but this was different. Sam knew that. His smirk began to falter. “What are you making it sound like?”

Cas gave a look to Dean. Something that seemed to be like he was asking for permission for something. Dean didn't answer him. He didn't need to. Cas gently took one of Sam’s hands that were stuck on his shoulder and he guided it down between Sam’s legs…

The moment he touched it, Sam yanked his hand away like he had been burned. He gasped out, stuttering like a fool. “What is that? What the hell is that?!”

“Sam—”

“What is that?!” Sam yelled.

“Aphrodite’s gift,” Dean answered meekly.

Sam was shaking his head, getting faster the more he became frantic. “No, no, no, no, no…”

“Sam, I know this is scary right now, but you have to get it out. There’s no other way.”

“This is wrong, this is so wrong…”

“Sammy, the sooner you get it out, the sooner the pain will be over. Just think about that. Just think about the pain finally stopping.”

Sam looked like he was about to say something else, but his expression twisted up and the pain was beginning again. This time he knew Cas’ advice. He didn't push when they were talking. He had a chance to gather more strength and he was giving it his all when the pain came back. It was definitely having a better effect. Dean could see it now. It’s not going to be much longer if Sam keeps this up.

Sam was unusually silent as he let his body worked. With every pain that came, he worked with it. Dean and Cas never tried to speak to him. Reminding him of the situation would probably just send him off into a panic. Sam nearly had an attack when he touched it.

It was only a a minute or two later when Dean had to move his hand to support what was coming out. It was with one last push that the head of it finally popped out onto his hand.

Sam panted loudly on Cas’ shoulder, his limbs limp and feeble.

“Is it out yet?” Sam whimpered.

“The head’s out,” Dean assured. This is good. If his taste in movies were correct, they were nearly done. “Just put all of your strength into this last one and the pain will stop. I promise you that. It’ll all be over soon.”

Sam took a deep inhale through his nose. He kept his eyes shut and Cas wiped away some of the sweat on his brow.

And when the pain came back — oh, who is Dean kidding? Contractions. Sammy is having contractions! — Sam was ready for them. With a deep breath, he curled his body in, tensed every muscle, and didn't bother to hold back the scream. It tore out of his lungs and left Sam trembling in his wake of the crippling contraction. He never stopped. He kept going, kept pushing, kept pushing through the pain and—

And the thing finally slipped out into Dean’s clumsy hands. Sam crumbled against Cas and his state of agony finally over.

Cas slipped his arms around Sam, so that he wouldn't fall to the floor. It’s doubtful that Sam would've minded. With his sweat soaked skin and his ragged hair sticking to his face, Sam looked dead to the world already.

The room was completely still. No one tried to make a move or say a word in fear that it would shatter the strange heaviness that settled around them. The only thing they could hear was Sam’s deep gulps of air, full of relief, for his lungs to regulate themselves normally again.

Then there was a cry.

Small, watery, and very much annoyed.

And it wasn't coming from the men.

Sam finally had the strength to open his eyes. The crying never stopped. His eyes darted around the room in disbelief, not knowing where to land on. When he followed the sound, Sam had to reluctantly move his aching body just to see what was happening.

Dean dread to think what he must look like now. This whole night has been one crazy episode after another. What just happened… Dean didn't want to believe it at first but… h-holy shit. Holy shit!

“Dean,” Sam croaked, his voice hoarse from the yelling. “What is it?”

Dean didn't respond at first. His eyes were glued to the wriggling figure in his hands and he had to blink rapidly just to get back some clarity. “I-It—It… it’s—it’s a girl.”

Sam’s watery eyes were full of confusion. “What?”

There was no way to sugar coat it, so here it goes. “It’s a baby, Sammy.”

Dean noticed the tug of the cord attached to her belly button when Sam tried to move. He flinched at it, mostly out of the unusual sensation than out of pain. He held on to her with his two hands, one cupping her head, the other under her bottom. Dean shifted, so that he could give Sam and Cas a better of view of who they were dealing with.

She was already kicking up a storm. Her little legs were already punching the air in defiance. Her cries were strong and loud, a good sign that Dean noted, and there didn't seem to be anything wrong with her. Her lip was quivering, either from the crying or maybe she was getting cold. Dean wasn't sure. He had no idea what to do.

Sam and Cas were staring at her with wide eyes, too. They were frozen to the spot, just like Dean. They were frozen in shock, and the whole night rendering the three men into petrified statues.

All they had left were her whimpers to fill the quietness of the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... that happened.
> 
> What do you think?


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been awhile, but I have had a shitty past few days and it doesn't look like they're getting any better.
> 
> Enjoy.

“Hey,” Dean whispered. “Is he still sleeping?”

Cas glanced over to the bed and gave Dean a slight nod. Dean gave a little peak too. Sam was sleeping from where he had seen him last. He doubted his little brother would be able to move much after what his body had just been through. The moment he had a quiet minute to himself, Sam was gone to the world, and with that Dean was grateful. After the way Sam reacted… Dean didn't want to think about it. It’s been a long night.

Once Dean was sure, he pushed his back against the door to give enough room for the bassinet in his hands. After some manoeuvring, Dean got it into the room and placed it near Sam’s bed. They had to keep as quiet as they could. Cas had only been able to get the baby to calm down, and with Sam getting his much needed rest, it was better not to talk too loud. Or not to talk at all. Dean may be in shock at the moment, but he felt as if he had to keep talking. Had to keep busy. So he fiddled with the things in his hands.

“I, uh, brought some clothes and stuff that… that she might need. You know, it’s lucky we never got rid of Asher’s baby stuff. I mean, we haven't talked about whether… whether we would be using this stuff again, but… I never thought we would be using it for… something like this,” Dean drifted off. His eyes flickered to the baby in Cas’ arms. Her tiny fists were gripping the fabric of his robe and her feet would occasionally kick the air. Dean assumed those were good signs. Her skin was pinking up nicely. That was also good, and she seemed to be healthy.

That’s… good.

Dean didn't know what more to think about other than that.

Anyhow, Dean shook his head and went back to the items he was carrying. He picked out a diaper and Asher’s old bee onesie, which has definitely seen better days now. “If you pass her over, I’ll get her dressed.”

Cas gave a quick nod and began to hand her over to Dean. It took some careful manoeuvring, but Dean had her tucked into the crook of his arm in no time. She barely made a sound in the midst of it. She just curled back into Dean’s warmth and began to gum on her tiny fist.

It was weird holding a newborn like this again. The last time Dean held a baby was when Asher was this small, and his mind couldn't stop noting the subtle differences between the girl and his memories of Asher. In the back of his mind, Dean could feel how much lighter she felt than Asher did. She looked smaller, too. Really small, in fact. Is that bad? Damn, they needed to arrange a doctor’s appointment. It’s not like Sam knew to be cautious. He didn't know she was there.

Sam. Judging by his reaction from earlier, Dean could say for certainty that Sam had absolutely no idea that she was there…

After her… birth, all three of them were stunned silent from the events that had unfolded, but the only thing that broke the tension was Sam. He made a noise, like a wounded animal, and before Dean knew it, Sam was in the middle of a massive panic attack. Dean had to hand the baby over to Cas’, mindful of the cord, and gather Sam up in his arms to make sure he didn't have a melt down. It took a long time. Sam had gotten himself into a really bad state.

Of course he would. Who could blame him? He… he just pushed a baby out of him. That’s not normal.

And looking at her now… Dean couldn't believe it. She wasn't just Sam’s baby (Sam has a baby… hoy shit), but she looks so much like Sam, as well. It was eery how much of a miniature she was of his image. Dean still has those faded pictures of when he and his brother were kids, he still kept one of his favourites in his wallet — the one when Dean was four and Sam was only a couple weeks old at the time. He remembered the ratty old chair dad sat them in, mom not standing too far away, with dad taking the picture. He remembered how antsy mom was about Dean holding baby Sammy, it only made dad laugh at her nervous energy. Dean didn't mind. All he had to do was keep ahold of a sleeping baby and not to move too much, like dad had told him to.

“Dean?” That snapped Dean out of his trance. He did even realise he had done that until he saw Cas was watching him carefully the whole time, and he suddenly felt exposed and vulnerable. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah, just, um…” Dean was about to tell him, but he had no idea what he was suppose to say in a situation like this. The little baby was stretching out her limbs and cooing away without a care in the world. Dean quickly grabbed a diaper and folded it over her, and it was securely on. He was going to grab the onesie and dress her in that, too, but he ended up blurting out the first thing that crossed his mind. “She’s so much like Sam.”

Dean couldn't help a second glance, but this time he really studied all of the baby’s features. She didn't have much hair at the moment, but the little wisps of hair she did have were the same chestnut colour as his brother’s. Her eyes may be the usual baby blues now, but Dean would bet top dollar they would go to the same dark brown tone like Sam’s. He would be surprised if they didn't. Come on, even her nose, _her nose_ , is the same as Sam’s. There was no question about it that this baby was Sam’s child, just…. how?

How did this happen? How the fuck did this happen? They weren't idiots. It’s not like Sam had a reason to think this would even be a possibility, and he _definitely_ did not think giving birth in the middle of the night in his bedroom would also be a possibility. It’s not like they were one of those oblivious girls from that TV show that ignored all of the signs, until they were giving birth on the bathroom floor. It’s not like Sam missed the fact he didn't have a period, or that the vomiting was part of a pregnancy. He’s a guy! Guys don't think about those sorts of things!

But it happened. Dean saw it happen. He helped deliver her. He was by Sam’s side when they thought his pain was something that was killing him, but _this_? Sam was in agony for hours, they had no idea what was wrong, Dean thought he was going to die it was that bad, and he had absolutely no idea how to help him—

“Dean,” Cas interrupted again. During Dean’s freak out, Cas had picked up the baby and had moved her back to the bassinet. He didn't even realise that had happened. Cas was now standing in front of him, his eyes full of concern. “Dean, are you all right?”

Dean couldn't answer him. Honestly, he had no idea what he was feeling, he had no control over what is happening to his body, and soon his eyes were watering up. His vision was getting blurry from it all, and his throat felt like it was closing up on him. With one deep inhale through his nose, the tears began to fall down his cheeks. “I-I thought — I thought he was dying, I thought… ”

Dean didn't have to say anything else. Cas wrapped his arms around Dean’s neck and pulled him into a hug. The hunter has no idea why he is crying. Maybe it was the shock of the whole night, maybe it was a combination of exhaustion and stress, but Dean couldn't stop it now. He tucked his face into the crook of Cas’ neck and cried for as long as his tear ducts allowed.

 

* * *

 

It’s been over an hour since the birth, and so far the little girl seemed to be doing fine. Better than fine, actually, Dean thinks she thriving pretty well. Her skin was plumping up, her face was looking less squished and wrinkly, to the point where her features were becoming more defined. The last few minutes have been a game of what there is about the baby that didn't look like Sam, and that was a hard game to play.

Dean had her sleeping in his arms at the moment. She was close to a crying fit earlier on, Dean didn't want her to wake Sam yet, so he picked her up and bounced her around a bit, like he did with Asher. It was enough to settle her down and soon she was drifting off to sleep. Turns out she doesn't like to be ignored for long, Dean guessed, but she was almost like an angel now. Honestly, she was kind of cute.

The longer he held her in his arms, Dean had to admit that he was starting to get a soft spot for her. Maybe it was the fact that he was reminiscing about the times when Asher was a baby, or maybe for the fact that she looked like Sam — holy crap. Niece. This isn't just a random baby, this is his niece! This is Sam’s daughter, she came from him…

Dean turned his gaze to the bed. Sam was still fast asleep. It took a long time and a lot of reassurance on Dean’s part, but he was able to get Sam to finally close his eyes and drift off. He hadn't gotten any sleep since yesterday night and since… it all happened, since the birth. And just watching Sam now, Dean was worried with how Sam was going to react to her once he woke up. His reaction the first time was the bad enough, but how is he going to behave once he see’s her again?

It looks like it’s not going to be long to find out because Cas was calling for Dean’s attention and he could see Sam slowly stirring awake. His eyes were crusted and sluggish, but they soon landed on Cas sitting in front of him. He groaned, his hand covering his eyes from the dim light.

“Sam, are you okay?” Cas asked.

“Not really,” Sam croaked. “I’m exhausted.”

“After what you’ve been through, I don’t blame you,” Dean tried to joke about and lighten the mood, but it was obviously falling on deaf ears. Sam looked too miserable to try and laugh back, and Cas gave Dean an unamused glare. Yeah, now was definitely not the time.

Sam dropped his hand back on the bed and tried to push himself up in a sitting position, and the shift had Sam wincing and groaning from the left over ache. Cas had to help him out with getting his back against the head board. Once Sam was upright, he didn't even try to move any more. His body was still recovering.

But when Sam was steady, or at least partially aware of the room, he let his eyes wander the room, until they landed on his older brother. Dean could see the slow, sluggish realisation seep into Sam’s eyes, the minute where his brain fully registered the events that had just transpired and what it meant.

“That really happened?” Sam whispered, his eyes fixed on the bundle in Dean’s arms. The older Winchester responded by curling the baby closer to him because the way Sam was looking at her was making him feel uneasy. It was a weird thing to feel. He was already protective over the little girl, but Sam did not look close to feeling like that at all. He seemed more fearful than anything else, maybe even in a state of shock.

“Yeah,” Dean said, but only because the silence was starting to make him fidget. The baby was starting to sense his discomfort because even she was beginning to whine from the tension. “Yeah, um…” Dean didn't know what to say. It’s not like you could give your general compliments and congratulations. That definitely wasn't the right time. “She’s looking good. Healthy. Her lungs seem to be working fine, so it’s safe to say she can scream the Bunker down with one long cry.”

Dean tried to use that as a way to lighten the mood, but one look at Sam had him shutting up. Suddenly, Dean realised that Sam hadn't actually taken the chance to fully see her, so maybe this was Sam going through a state of disbelief. Dean stepped closer to the bed, and took a seat near Sam.

Dean didn't miss how the closer he got, the more Sam seemed to push himself back into the bed. He couldn't physically move more further away against the headboard. It was the only thing that kept him in place. That didn't stop Dean from trying to extend the baby out to Sam, no matter how unlikely it was a welcomed offer. “Do you… do you want to hold her?”

Dean felt like it was a stupid question to ask. He already knew the answer — Sam’s eyes darted between his brother and the baby, but the rest of his body was as still as a marble statue. Dean was even certain Sam was holding his breath. The baby was blissfully unaware of what was going on around her, something which Dean was thankful for. Her eyes were kept closed and in her own world, and Dean wished it could last a little longer. “Sammy?”

Sam tried to speak, but whatever the words are stuck in his throat and they refused to come out. After several attempts, Sam merely shook his head.

“Are you sure?” Dean asked.

Sam could only nod at that. Dean didn't want to push him too far. He tucked the baby back into his arm and close to his chest. Dean turned his gaze over to Cas, who shared the same expression as him; worry, concern, maybe a little bit lost at what to do.

But suddenly the little girl started to wail in his arms. The moment her cries were heard, Sam took a deep inhale and turned his face away. Dean brought the little girl back to his chest, propped her over his shoulder and rubbed her back in an attempt to calm her screams. It seemed to work. Her cries were dying down, until they were nothing but sad and pathetic whimpers. It was making Dean feel anxious that she was getting all worked up, a baby’s distressed cries were never something he was comfortable with.

One little glance over to his brother gave Dean a little bit of hope. Sam was distant, but his hands were gripped into the comforter — something that Dean knew was Sam’s nervous tick, curling his hands into fists. “Is she okay?” Sam asked, but there was a tremor in his voice and his lip was going red from where he was biting into it, something Sam did when he was under stress.

Dean knew Sam was going to be in shock over this — heck, he was too, but he didn't think Sam would out right reject her. Isn't this what he wanted?

Sam wanted kids. Sam told Dean he wanted kids (mind you, he was in a drunken haze, but still). Yeah, this was all a little unexpected, but Sam wouldn't just ignore any kids he had. That’s not him, but to act like this…

And in that moment, Dean decided to take a chance. A chance on what? Who the fuck knows. This could have been a bad choice, but he had to try it. “She’s probably hungry,” Dean said, leading. “Cas, we don't have any formula left, do we?”

Cas frowned. “Um, no. We do not.”

“We better go get some,” Dean decided. He carefully placed the baby back into the bassinet and grabbed Cas’ hand. He led them out of the room, to the door, just before Cas could say anything else. “We’ll be back soon.”

“Dean?” Sam asked, a little panicked.

“Just keep an eye on her while we’re gone,” Dean finished.

“Dean!”

But Dean closed the door behind him and that was the end of it.

 

* * *

 

“Dean, what are you doing?” Cas asked, the further they backed away from the door.

“Giving Sam the time he needs,” Dean answered.

“Is that wise?” Cas pointed out.

“It’s better than nothing,” Dean argued. Once he was far away enough, so that Sam couldn't hear them through the door, Dean stopped and turned to Cas. “Sam just needs to be alone with her, that’s all.”

“I don’t think Sam wants to be alone with her. He seems very insistent on not being near her at all.”

“That’ll change,” Dean urged. “It has to.”

And Dean really hoped that it would.

“Did you suspect?” Dean remembered to ask. “At all? I keep thinking back to all those months, and I can’t understand how I missed this.”

Cas gave him a bewildered stare. “No, Dean, I didn’t. This is incredibly improbable. I have never seen anything like this before. And how were you suppose to know something like this?”

“I don’t know,” Dean shook his head. “I don’t know. This is way to much. I don’t know what to think anymore. This is all… I have no idea.”

Cas seemed sympathetic. “Dean, if you are struggling with this, doesn't that mean Sam is too?”

“I know he is, but… he can’t just give up on her. He can’t.”

“Dean!”

That was Sam’s voice. Cas and Dean ran back into his bedroom, and just as they opened the door, Sam seemed to be in the middle of another massive panic attack, but more worse than the first one. He had hardly moved from his position on the bed, and he was staring at the baby in a mixture that Dean could only describe as fear and confusion.

Luckily, the baby was oblivious to what was going on. Cas went to check on her, and Dean went to check on Sam. Once he was in front of him, he gently grabbed his brother’s face with both hands and tried to get Sam to take deep breaths. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, Sam. Sam, I’m here. Calm down. We’re here.”

It took a little longer to get Sam to breath normally agin, but it was still a struggle for him to form words. Every time he would try, Sam would choke on them, his nose filled with snot and his cheeks were streaming with tears. Eventually, Sam was able to get some words out. “T — th — this wasn't suppose to h-happen.”

“Sam, I know this is scary and with what you’ve just been through—”

Sam shook his head in Dean’s clasped hands. “No, no, Dean, that’s not what I mean. You don’t get it. You don’t.”

“Then tell me. What do you mean?”

Sam took a shuddering breath, as if he was ready to confess a deep secret. “I wasn't meant to have kids.”

Dean gave a light laugh. “Of course you were. You’ve got one now—”

“No, Dean, you don’t. You don't get it. You don’t.”

Dean cocked his head to the side, confused. He dropped his hands from Sam’s head. “What don't I get?”

“I gave up on the idea,” Sam admitted in a rush, so fast that Dean wasn't certain whether he heard it right, but Sam kept on talking. “Having kids and settling down… I gave up on it. I’m getting closer to my forties, I’m still alone, and thought that if it was never going to happen by now, I might as well accept it and move on. And I was fine with that. I really, really was. I thought about it, maybe, but I never… not this.”

Sam whispered, turning his gaze to the side, to the bassinet. The baby was being watched under Cas’ careful protection, but she was starting to kick her legs in the air — a sign she was close to crying again. It was what Asher did when he was a baby. Her face was even beginning to twist into a frown that was ready to erupt in a cry. Sam shook his head, still not believing in what he was seeing. “There was a reason I didn't want to that gift from Aphrodite, I didn’t… this can’t be real.”

“It is real, Sam,” Dean said.

“How can it be real?” Sam almost screamed at that. He was getting worked up again, the tension was seeping back into his muscles again, and his breath was getting short. “Shit! I’m not ready for this, Dean. I’m not ready. I can’t be a parent, I can’t. What do I have to offer her? I have no experience with kids, outside of my time with Asher. I’m not financially stable or anything like that. I’m a hunter! Our lives our dangerous, even the way things are now, I can’t bring a baby into the mix. How would that be fair? And after what happened to mom, and dad — anyone who knows us… we are not safe people. How could anyone be safe with us? Maybe,” Sam whispered, ducking his eyes from Dean’s stare. “Maybe she will be better off without me.”

Dean was silent the whole time Sam was talking. Yeah, Sam needed to let himself vent for awhile, he needed to get those emotions out. Sam had been through one hell of a night. Of course he was going to struggle with this a little bit, but right now Dean could only say one thing to his brother now. “Wow, Sam. I have to say… that is absolutely pathetic.”

Dean could almost see Cas giving Dean the strangest ‘what the fuck did you just say’ look, but he wasn't watching him right now. His focus was all on Sam, his brother looking up at Dean, with his own confused expression. “What?”

Dean shook his head. “The family curse, the lives of hunters, all that crap — those were my reasons. Those were my reasons for walking away. You remember that, don’t you? Of course you do. You just took my reasons and made them your own.”

Sam was instantly guilty at that suggestion. “Dean—”

“The only reason I am being so understanding at the moment is because this has all been one big kick in the head for all of us, and for the fact that I know that you don’t mean any of the stuff you just said.”

“Things change,” Sam muttered.

“Have they?” Dean asked, insistent. “They didn't change nine months ago. Aphrodite looked right into your heart and saw what you wanted. You wanted to be a father more than anything and, for some reason, a Goddess gave you what you desperately wanted, and she is sitting right there,” Dean motioned to the bassinet. “I know this wasn't planned, I know how freaked out you are — I’ve been in that boat, I got the T-shirt, but let me tell you this; if you walk out on her, you are going to regret it for the rest of your life. Trust me. It will always haunt you.”

Sam was silent at that. He didn't need to ask how Dean would know that. He already knows.

“Do you remember what you said to me, all those years ago in Asher’s room? I do. I never let myself forget it. I made the stupid decision to leave, and you have no idea how much I regret it to this day, and look what I have now. I remember how mad you were at me for running, but you have no idea how mad I will be if you do the same. I made that mistake, Sam. Don’t repeat them.”

Sam looked like he was ready to fall apart from all the stress going through him. He seemed more conflicted than ever at Dean’s words, and he was starting to wring his hands in the comforter. “Then what am I suppose to do? I can’t do this on my own.”

“You are not alone,” Dean reassured. “You’re not. I’m here, so is Cas. We are here for you, no matter what. Like it or not, we are family, and we stick together no matter what.”

It was at that moment when the baby decided to cry out. Loud, watery, desperate for attention. Dean dived over to pick her up before Cas could, and he settled her close before making his way over to Sam. His brother’s eyes jumped between the two of them, not knowing which one to watch out for first.

Dean took his seat back on the bed, and lifted the crying girl out, closer to Sam. She was wailing up a storm, more confused at being manhandled than anything else, but it was still distressing all the same. Her lip was beginning to quiver from the chill in the room. “Hold her, Sam.”

Sam was getting really riled up from her screaming and tried to push himself away. “No, Dean—”

“Not even for a little bit?” Dean asked desperately.

Sam shook his head. “I can’t, I—”

“She needs you, Sammy.”

That was what broke Sam’s resistance. He finally looked at the little girl, took a deep shuddering breath and opened his arms out. Dean didn't waste any time handing the child over into Sam’s clumsy palms. She was still crying her lungs out, but she whimpered at the change about, until she was securely in Sam’s grip. Poor guy didn't look like he knew what to do. He had her held out away from him, and watching her, like she was something to study.

Dean guesses, in a way, she was. She was a new person to him, a stranger. He had no idea she was going to be in his life, and this was his way of sizing her up. Dean had to push him a little more. Sam isn’t going to bond if he was still suspicious of her, and it was difficult to do that when said baby was wailing from the cold, to the point where her face was flushed read. Dean guided Sam to pull her closer to his chest, skin to skin. Dean hadn't gotten around to putting the onesie on her yet, but he was glad he didn't.

The minute she was close to his chest, the baby curled in close to Sam’s body heat, muffling the rest of her cries in doing so. Sam didn't know how to respond. He placed his arm under her, readjusting so that she was more secure, and once that happened, her cries began to die down and tamper off.

Dean watched Sam carefully through the whole thing. This was still a risky chance. Sam still looked unsure and afraid the longer the seconds ticked by, the longer he held her. Even Dean was worried that he had gone to far, that he had pushed Sam was too much. He was just about to take the baby out of his hands when something unexpected happened — the baby sneezed. A loud, making your whole body tense type of sneeze that made her eyes comically wide in surprise.

And it had Sam giggling away to himself. It was an odd sight, Sam laughing, especially considering the circumstances, but Dean didn't miss the subtle signs. Sam’s hand ended up cupping the back of her skull, and he brought her a little closer to him. Dean doubted he even knew he did that consciously, but there he was.

And Dean felt all his worries begin to melt away.

 

* * *

 

It had been awhile since that happened, and Dean was glad for the calmer feel of the room. He didn't realise how much it was suffocating him before, but now he felt like he could breathe. Finally. “You in pain anywhere, Sam?”

Dean had to whisper. The baby was sleeping soundly against Sam’s bare chest and he gave a little shake of his head. “Um, I think it’s going to hurt to walk for awhile, and my nipples are achy again, but I don’t think there’s any lasting damage.”

“Achy nipples?” Dean asked. He remembered Sam complaining about that before, but then his eyes spotted the reason why that was. “I think I know why.”

Sam followed Dean’s line of sight, down to his chest and he could see it. On the peaks of his nipples were tiny white buds. One of them completely overflowed and the milk was trickling down his pec. The sight of it had Sam groaning in horror. “Ah, come on! Really? What next, Aphrodite? PMS?”

That had Dean laughing. “I would say ‘hormonal’ is the right term to use.”

“Fuck you,” Sam spat.

Dean mock gasped. “Sam, there are children here.”

“She can’t hear you,” his little brother argued, his hand resting on her back. Dean can’t help but sneak a smile over to Cas for that. Sam was interacting with her. This is progress.

“But, seriously, you feeling better?” Dean asked.

Sam looked up at Dean and gave a small nod. “Yeah. I just… Dean—”

“You don't need to explain. You never need to explain.”

And Dean meant it. He truly meant it. Yeah, he doesn't like to be reminded of the time he left, the guilt was always there to make him grovel in his own pity, but this was an extenuating circumstance.

Sam gave Dean a grateful smile and took a deep breath. His free hand trailed up the white stream to clear it up. “I’m literally lactating.”

“Well, you are the girl here,” Dean joked. He only meant for it to be a jibe, but it had Sam frowning to himself. He looked down at the baby on his chest, still fast asleep, with a a strange expression over his features.

“How did I not know, Dean?” Sam whispered. Dean didn't need to ask what he was referring to.

“How were we suppose to know?” Dean told him. “It’s not like this was done the normal way. You can’t keep thinking about it like that. It’ll drive you nuts. I didn't suspect, you definitely didn’t, nor Cas and it’s not like…”

Dean drifted off, his mind going back to something he had completely forgotten until now.

“Dean?” Cas leaned forward.

“Asher knew.”

That caught Sam’s attention. “What?”

“‘My cousin is ready to come out now’…” Those were Asher’s exact words, meaning he — “Asher knew the whole time.”

“Wha… how? He would've said something,” Sam defended.

Cas began to talk. “It’s possible Asher saw her during gestation. Asher is an angel, he can see human souls, even in its earliest development begin to flicker to light. It is possible that he might have known.”

That just fired up Dean more. “There’s no ‘might’ about it, Cas. He knew. He knew and he didn't say anything. Damn it, he is going to get it the next time—”

“Dean, it’s okay,” Sam said.

“No, it’s not okay, Sam. He should've told us. He should've told us something like this, but he kept it to himself. He didn't say anything!”

Sam’s hand cupped the back of the baby’s head. “Dean, calm down—”

“No, Sam, I can’t calm down. What if there were complications? You could've had pre-eclampsia, or placenta previa, like Cas had, or HELLP syndrome? You could've died giving birth. Your body isn't meant to go through something like that and—”

“Dean,” Sam interrupted softly. “I know you're mad, but you don’t get it. Asher’s four. He has two dads. It’s not a secret that Cas was the one who gave birth to him, and it’s not like he’s had the birds and the bees talk. He probably didn't even think that this was unusual.”

Dean couldn't help but be mad at that moment, but he couldn't deny that Sam had a point. There was a lot of things Asher wasn't aware of yet, and he couldn't blame him for this. “But why didn't he say anything?”

It was at that moment the door handle to Sam’s room began to twist. For some reason, it couldn't turn all the way. It would twist half way and jump back to the hilt — meaning someone was too small to twist the handle all the way to open it. Sam gave a little smile to himself at that. “Maybe you can ask him yourself.”

“You up for visitors?” Dean asked.

Sam nodded. “Let him in.”

Dean got up from the bed and made his way to the door. When he opened it, he was met with Asher, standing one one of his old books to try and get high enough to reach the handle. Once he saw his dad though, he jumped down and reached for Dean. “Is she here yet? Is she here?”

Asher was a busy mess of excitable energy, he was trying to push past Dean and rush into the room, but Dean kneeled down and placed his hands on his shoulders. “Whoa, slow your horses, buddy. Slow your horses. She’s here, but you have to be very careful, okay? Can you do that?”

Asher nodded his head so hard Dean was surprised he didn't give himself whiplash. “Yes, I can do that. Let me see!”

Dean finally agreed and picked up the little boy. Asher latched on to Dean, hands around his neck and let himself be carried in the room. Dean didn't miss Asher’s eyes trying to find the baby, until they finally landed on his uncle with the baby asleep on his chest. “Hey, Uncle Sammy.”

“Hey, buddy,” Sam whispered.

“Is that her?” Asher pointed to the baby.

Sam nodded. “She’s sleeping, so you have to be quiet.”

“Okay,” Asher took Sam’s advice and whispered as quietly as he could, but he was practically bouncing in Dean’s arms. The moment they were near, Asher reached forward, trying to get a greedy look at his new cousin. It was a good thing they were near the bed because Dean could barely hold Asher in his arms with how energetic he was and by the time they were there, Asher was free from his hold and crawling up to Sam’s side.

The moment he saw the little girl, he was transfixed. Asher rested his head against Sam’s shoulder and peered down at her sleeping face. He gave her a little wave. She wasn't awake, or even aware, of it, but Asher was too caught up in the newness and excitement of it all. “Hi, cousin.”

The baby’s reply was a stretch and a noisy snore.

“What’s her name, Uncle Sammy?” Asher asked.

“I don’t think Uncle Sammy has a name for her yet, buddy,” Dean told him.

“Actually, I… I think I do have one.”

That caught everyone’s attention. “Really? What is it?”

“It might sound silly, but mom’s middle name was Elizabeth, but I didn't want to do the whole recycling names thing, so…” Sam was looking more uncertain the more he talked, but with one last look at her face, Sam seemed to gain more confidence in his choice. He nodded to himself, and took a deep breath. “Her name is Beth.”

“Beth?” Dean asked. He tested it out again. He was beginning to like it. “It’s a good name.”

Sam smiled, proud of himself.

“Yay!” Asher beamed. “Hi, Beth. Nice to meet you.”

Asher was watching the baby with so much intensity, Dean doubted he would be aware of anything else. That’s what he though, anyway, until Asher looked up. He turned his gaze to Cas, and his features changed. He got up from where he was sitting and crawled his way over to Cas. “Daddy.”

Dean didn't realise it at the time, but Cas was being unusually quiet at the moment. He just thought Cas was observing the situation in his own mild manner, but Asher must be sensing something Dean was missing because he wrapped his arms around him and Cas immediately hugged him close to his chest. He even tucked his face into his neck and they held onto each other for awhile. Dean was just about to say something, to ask if Cas was all right just when he heard a small whine from behind him.

Beth was beginning to wake up from her nap and, just like her dad, she was cranky when she didn't get enough sleep. Sam ran a hand down her back, whilst shushing, in an effort to calm her down. It seemed to work a little bit. Her cries began to tamper down.

“She’s cold,” Asher stated.

Dean didn't need to know how Asher knew that. Probably part of his angel abilities, like everything else he automatically knew. Dean remembered the onesie he left in the bassinet and tossed it over to Sam. His brother grabbed it with his free hand and placed it over her back. Sam began to lean forward (with the occasional wince here and there) and rested her flat on his legs to fit the onesie on her.

“Wasn't that my onesie?” Asher asked.

“Yeah, it was,” Dean smiled. “There was a time when you were that small. Can you believe it? But there’s one thing I want to know first, buddy. If you knew she was growing in Uncle Sammy the whole time, why didn't you say anything?”

“I couldn’t. The naked lady in the library said it would spoil the surprise.”

Yeah, she might have been in a giving mood, but that didn't stop Dean from wanting to kill that crazy Goddess. “That’s sweet, buddy, but if a situation like this ever arises again, a little heads up would be nice.”

Sam froze, just in the middle of snaking Beth’s arm through the sleeve. “Again?”

“Who knows what could happen?” Dean said, just for the sheer pleasure of watching Sam freak out even more. He smiled to himself as Sam’s eyes widened. Maybe he should move this along. “So there’s another Winchester in the world. Just when we thought the family tree was done for, the gods and angels come to help us along.”

“How would angels help you have babies?” Asher asked, looking up at Cas. “How do you make babies?”

Dean cut in. “Okay, moving on,” Dean did not want to have this conversation for a very, very, very long time. “All you need to know about babies, buddy, is that a goddess was able to create a 100% Winchester.”

“Um—”

Cas had an uncertain frown on his face. He was regarding Beth carefully, almost as if he was trying to figure her out.

“What is it, Cas?” Sam asked.

“I don’t believe she is ‘100% Winchester’, as Dean claims her to be.”

“How’d you mean? You saw what Aphrodite did,” Dean pointed out.

“That’s what the issue is. Dean, Aphrodite is powerful Goddess, but she doesn't have the ability to create life like this.”

Dean shook his head in confusion. “That doesn't make sense. I thought she’s the Goddess of fertility and all that.”

“Exactly,” Cas nodded. “All she can do is increase the chance of creating life, but she cannot create it out of nothing.”

Dean tried to understand what he was talking about, but he had absolutely no idea. “You’ve lost me.”

Cas huffed. “You’re mistaking Aphrodite as the one who controls procreation. Yes, she does have some influence over human reproduction, but that is because she affects fertility. All she can do is increase a person’s chance of conceiving, but she can’t create a child on her own. There has to be something there.”

“Something there?” Sam asked, lifting Beth up to rest against his chest after she was dressed.

“Think of it as a flower that needs to grow. Aphrodite can enrich the soil of a barren land, but nothing will grow if it does not rain. The same analogy can be applied to human reproduction.”

“Like how you can turn a barren couple fertile, but nothing can come out of it if they don't have sex?” Sam simplified.

“Precisely.”

Sam tried to make sense of that, but there was something else that he wanted to know. “But there’s a ton of lore about parthenogenesis in the Greek myths. Aphrodite was born from the ocean herself, along with many others. Christianity even had the Virgin Mary.”

“The Virgin Mary is a bad example. Jesus was Mary’s child, but he was also the son of God. He had two parents, meaning no asexual reproduction. Asexual reproduction of a life is similar to cloning. It’s impossible to create an entirely new person out of that. Plus, there are other theories about Aphrodite’s birth, and Athena was conceived before Zeus ate Metis in fear of their powerful children…”

“He ate her?” Dean interrupted.

“Which led to Athena being born from cracking her way out of her father’s skull.”

Wow, the Greeks are a crazy bunch.

“There are many more, but most fables of parthenogenesis usually consist of having two parents. Sex is not always needed, but as long as there is two fertile people then creation of life is possible. And since Sam was the one that bore her, then that means…”

Cas drifted off, but the brothers were anxious to hear more of what he had to say.

“What does that mean, Cas?” Dean prompted.

Sam looked down at Beth. He studied her face intensely and came to the conclusion all on his own. “Are you saying Beth has… another dad out there?”

Cas nodded. “Yes, she does.”

“Sam, is there something you haven't told us?” Dean asked suggestively.

Sam shook his head. “Dean, I have no idea.”

“Come on, there must be something—”

“I haven't had sex in over a year. I really have no idea.”

A year? Now that is one extreme case of the blue balls.

“So… you really don’t know?”

“No, I don’t.”

Just when Dean saw how serious Sam was being, he dropped all the humour. “So who is the baby daddy?”

Nobody could give an answer. The room was silent, and no one brought themselves to say anything for awhile.


	18. Chapter 18

It turns out that Beth has a unique way of telling people when she’s tired.

She’ll grab your ear, and if she can’t reach said ear, she’ll tug on her own until it was bright red. Dean can’t remember the many times he walked into the kitchen and spotted Beth’s tiny fist reach out and begin to pull on the already swollen lobe of Sam’s ear, that was still recovering from the sting she caused earlier, but Sam never stopped her. It was a comfort thing. Sam would wince through the burning ache and let her pull his ear off if it helped her calm down.

This time was a different occasion. It was earlier than Dean would like to be out of bed. Beth was fine most nights, but there was always the occasional evening where she would refuse to go to sleep, no matter how tired she was, or she was too fussy to let herself relax. Right now she was sucking on a pacifier, her eyes refusing to let herself drop off, with her little fist barely keeping hold of Sam’s ear tips and resting her cheek against his shoulder.

Sam must be trying to get a rhythm going for Beth to fall asleep to. Usually, Beth could only sleep in complete darkness. Dean can’t count the number of times he has walked in on Sam hanging out in the closet, with Beth resting in his arms, and those were also the times when Sam ordered him to shut the door before she realises the room is bright. It also doesn't help when Dean made an off-handed joke about Beth possibly being a vampire because of her love of the dark. The smack on the back of his head was enough to tell Dean that Sam did not find that amusing one bit.

He had it coming. Dean knew what Sam was going through. He was a new parent. No amount of baby books of classes can ever prepare you for the wonderful reality for parenthood. Just thinking about the nights when Asher had a temper tantrum that lasted for two full days had Dean shuddering. He and Cas did not sleep for forty-eight hours. It was torture.

But in the next second, Sam was cooing away when Beth began to stretch in his arms before wriggling in closer to his warmth. That had Dean smiling. Already a snuggle bunny. Just like Sammy was when he was a baby.

It doesn't matter how little sleep you get in those nights. You never feel it after, anyway.

Or maybe that was the caffeine finally taking effect.

It was probably the caffeine.

It had been almost two weeks since their impromptu birth preparation, and Dean couldn't get over how quickly it has flown by. She had already changed so much, too. Her chestnut hair was sticking out everywhere, no mater how often Sam tried to tame it. He’ll probably give up soon when he realises that Beth will never take his fashion advice. If she was like him in regards to their hair, Sam will have absolutely no say because they never listen to others when they tell them it needs a cut. Sam certainly doesn’t. Seriously, Dean is this close to sneaking into Sam’s room and cutting that mane in his sleep. Next thing Dean will know Sam will be supporting a man bun. Eh…

And it was safe to say that she definitely had Sam’s nose. Even his eyes — she was becoming more like Sam every day, it was a weird thing to see. She might even be tall when she’s older. They’re having the doctor’s appointment tomorrow to check if she was perfectly healthy. So maybe the reason Beth was still awake was because Sam was an anxious bundle of nerves.

It’s not surprising when the only thing Sam has been freaking out over was all the things he did wrong in the months when Beth was growing inside him. Notice how he said growing. Sam is having a bit of trouble to admitting he was pregnant. Dean didn't hold that against him. It was a lot to take in, but it was after the birth when Sam’s anxiety levels were reaching one hundred. Sam didn't have to put all of it into words, but Dean could guess.

Sam had a few beers after they finish a hunt, did he screw her up? Does she have a problem because of his drinking? Dean kept saying no because Dean couldn't see anything wrong with her. But what if she has developmental problems instead? Dean said anything he could to calm his fears. What if she has learning difficulties? What if she’s ill? What if she has a condition because of the hunting they did?

What if, what if, what if…

Dean is hoping more than anything that their appointment tomorrow will calm his nerves.

He’ll have a ton of questions and hopefully he will get the answers he needs. Dean’s certain Sam will give himself a stress ulcer if he doesn't.

And yeah, these are important questions to ask, but Dean is certain she will pass those tests with flying colours. Only… there was one question that was bugging Dean more than the rest.

Who _was_ the other dad?

Okay, Dean knows this is not the question he should be worried about in the circumstances, but this has been something that is effecting Sam more than he was willing to let on. After the first night with Beth, Dean didn't miss how Sam was trying to pick out her features that weren't Sam’s and try to see if they belonged from anyone he knew or had seen before. It never led anywhere because Sam looked more frustrated and confused from it than satisfied. She was too much like Sam. It was never going to work that way. And if he had never had sex in the year leading up to her conception then it’s not like they could track the days and the notches in Sam’s bedpost. They were running blind on this.

And it shouldn't matter. It has only been two weeks, but Sam is doing great with Beth. Scratch that, he’s amazing with Beth. After years of wanting to be a father and now Sam finally is one. It’s not a surprise that he would be good at it. Just seeing Sam with Asher is clue enough. He was just meant to be a father, and Dean and Cas are always there to help him when he needs it, but Sam seemed to be coping. They've had their experience with sleep deprivation and stress during hunts. This is not too different.

But it was hanging in the air like a constant reminder. Beth’s other paternity. They had no idea who this other person could be. Maybe that’s why Sam never liked Dean’s dad jokes because, in the back of his mind, he was scared. Suggesting that Beth was a vampire, although playfully, was a dumb move, because Dean saw how Sam was thinking, trying to discern the other traits that helped them pick out the monsters, and every time they come up short, Sam never hid his relief. Dean does not want to think what giving birth to a monster would do to his brother’s mental health. They tested her every single way they knew how. Touch of silver, salt, holy water, even an exorcism — they all came to nothing.

And so far, Beth is not a monster. Except for when she had the colic, then she was the worst monster the brothers had ever faced.

But, my God, did they love her. They all did, she’s family. She had only been with them for such a short period of time and already they couldn't imagine their lives without her.

That’s why they are terrified. And if she did turn out to be a monster… Dean doesn't want to think about what they would do if that situation ever came to fruition.

 

* * *

 

“Okay, let’s see what number you have for us, sweetie.”

Beth was left in nothing but her diaper. The doc told them she had to be undressed so that they could get an accurate reading on the scales, but she didn't seem to like it. Her legs were kicking away at the air and she was growing like she was desperate to cry, but Sam was there. He stood by her side on the scales, the doctor keeping an eye on the numbers flashing in front of his eyes until they landed on a definitive number.

“Looks like she is…” the doctor (was it Dr. Swift? Dean couldn't remember, but she was decent enough) drifted. “Six pounds and five ounces. That looks healthy to me.”

“So she’s not too small?” Sam asked. He was leaning over by her side like a mother hen over her chicks. Dr. Swift picked Beth up off the scales and placed her back onto the examination table as gently as she could. Sam was instantly back at her side, taking her tiny fist into his.

“Nope. She appears to be the normal weight,” Dr Swift commented. “Although I can’t be definitive if I don't have her birth records on file. Are you sure you can’t get them to me? What hospital was she delivered in?”

Damn it. This doctor was really getting sassy about this. It’s not like they wouldn't give her Beth’s records if they could, but it’s not like they can explain the details of her birth and be honest. That would throw them into a mental hospital.

Sam had been trying to make up facts for the last few minutes, like a fake psychic. So far he had been doing pretty well. All those years of fake FBI training had finally paid off. “It wasn't a hospital. She was born at home, actually.”

“A home birth?” Dean was certain he saw Dr Swift give him a snide look. By the way they were dressed and the possibility of a home birth, Dean bets that the doctor thinks they were a bunch of earth loving hippies. “Usually there would be a midwife to help the process along. Did your wife or girlfriend consult one?”

Sam cleared his throat. “Her mother is… not in the picture. It’s just us now.”

The doctor finally seemed sympathetic at that. “Okay. That won’t be an issue.” Dean was thankful that she finally dropped that subject and quickly pulled out a line of rolled up measuring tape. “So we better check on her measurements now. I just need to wrap this around her head for a quick moment…”

Dr. Swift carefully cupped the back of Beth’s head and wrapped the tape around her forehead. Beth merely blinked at the strange attention going on around her, but she didn't make a peep.

“Looking good. Now let’s check her length,” Swift removed the tape and jotted down her findings in her file. She then pulls the tape across her body and looks for the number. “It looks like she’s — wow. Twenty-three inches long.”

“Is that bad?” Sam asked.

“Not at all. On average, babies are usually nineteen to twenty-one inches long, so that just means she is tall for her age.”

_Of course she is,_ Dean thought.

Sam gave a sigh of relief and gave a kiss to the top of Beth’s downy head. The rest of the appointment was a blur of procedures and health checking. Dean began to tune most of it out when the important tests gave them peace of mind and they got a clean bill of health for Beth. Dean was glad with how relieved Sam was after it was all done. It was the facts he needed to know that he didn't cause her any long lasting problems by his irresponsibility when he was expecting her. She was perfectly fine.

Cas and Asher were waiting for them in the lobby for them. Dean was surprised Asher was able to keep still the entire time. He was really disappointed when the doctor told him they only needed two people in the room, and Asher was probably sporting a pout the whole time. He was all excitement when they appeared out of the door. He was even stepping on his tiptoes to get a glimpse of Beth in her car seat, all smiles and energy.

Dean was glad to get out of that room, though. That doctor was getting a stiff upper lip and was beginning to ask too many questions that they were not ready to answer yet. If it lasted any longer, she probably would've called the cops with the report that they suspected Beth was a stolen baby. It was a good thing Beth looked like Sam, but he doubted that would've stopped her. Once the appointment was over, they grabbed their stuff and quickly got the hell out of there.

Sam didn't want to go straight back to the Bunker just yet. He had been cooped up since Beth was born, and he was desperate to enjoy the outside world a bit longer. Sam was insistent on heading over to a diner for a bite, and it made Dean think back to the diner he had not been to in a long time.

They were lucky it was a quiet day, so they got a table no problem. Asher was even hungry today, eating his own plate of french fries and sandwiches. He was propped on Cas’ lap, Beth sitting in her car seat next to Sam, opposite Dean.

Dean couldn't help but notice the fast pace Asher was devouring the food on his plate. “Whoa, don't eat so fast, Ash. You’ll give yourself a tummy ache.”

“No I won’t,” Asher mumbled with a mouthful of fries.

“Probably not, but do you want to risk it?”

“No.”

“Then slow it down, bud.”

Asher huffed, but he did as he was told. Cas ruffled his hair as a sign of appreciation. Dean smiled at Asher’s sulk, but it wouldn't last. It never does, no matter how mad the little guy gets.

“What about you, Sam? Does Beth need a bottle?”

“Nah, I fed her before we left the Bunker. She’s good for another hour,” Sam said with a stab of his fork in his salad.

“Babies are unpredictable, man. Didn't you pack a bottle of formula with you?” Dean narrowed his eyes. “You are feeding her with formula, aren't you?”

Sam avoided Dean’s glare and distracted himself by giving Beth back the pacifier that fell out of her mouth. “Uh, yeah. Formula.”

_Liar,_ Dean thought. He’s done the last few grocery runs the past few days and Sam has never asked him once to buy a can of baby formula. He had maybe bought one when they did their mad dash store run when Beth came, but it was still sitting untouched in the kitchen cabinets, and Sam would always scurry away when it was time for Beth’s feeding. It wasn't hard to put two and two together after that.

Cas had no reservations in keeping his thoughts to himself, though. “That appears to be incorrect, Sam.”

“Look, it helps with bonding, okay?” Sam defended.

“Hey, no need to justify it, Sam. As the old wives used to say: breast is best,” Dean teased.

“Breast is not best. In fact, the first few times hurt like a b—” Sam was just about to swear when he remembered that Asher was sitting near him. “I-It really hurt badly. I feel like I’m being milked like a cow.”

“So why don't you stop?” Cas asked.

Sam grumbled something under his breath.

“What?” Dean prompted.

“I leak every time she cries.”

Dean had to stifle his giggle. The thought of Sam’s flannel shirts sporting two large wet patches over his nipples was a funny image that refused to leave his head. Cas looked over at him with a frown. “How is this humorous?”

“It’s not,” Sam grumbled. He was answered back with an angry cry from Beth, who had dropped her pacifier and was beginning to kick up a fuss. On instinct, Sam crouched over her seat, unbuckled her and rested her against his shoulder. She kept mewling the whole time, grumpy, but began to gum on her fist in between cries. “Looks like she is hungry. I’ll be back.”

“You’re not gonna hide in a cubicle, are you?” Dean asked. Sam had began to stand up.

“Can’t exactly do it out here. People will ask too many questions.”

Sam grabbed his bag and made his way over to the bathroom. Asher had finally finished his plate and was resting his head against Cas’ arm. Eating usually did that to him. It wouldn't be much longer until he was sound asleep and a minute later, Dean was proven right. Asher’s light snores soon made their way in, and Dean couldn't help but smile at it.

“Out like a light,” Dean mused. “You know, that would've been handy if we knew that when he was a baby.”

Dean giggled lightly, but then he noticed something with Cas. The former angel was watching Asher as well, but there as something somber about the way he was watching the little boy. He wrapped his arm around him, tucking him closer to his side.

“Cas, what’s up?” Dean asked. “You’ve been quiet today, is something wrong?”

Cas looked up. “Do you think about it?”

Dean frowned. “Think about what?”

“Do you think about having more than just Asher?”

Dean wasn't sure what he was talking, but then his eyes widened when he got the gist. “Cas, are you asking if I want more kids?”

“It’s something we’ve never discussed,” Cas noted.

“Yeah, we never discussed it, I just —” Dean didn't know how to articulate his thoughts. The shock was still wearing on him. “I just assumed you didn't want to have anymore kids. I mean, after what you went through to have Asher…”

“I know. And I was content with having just one child, but recently…” Cas turned his direction to the empty car seat. “Recently, I have began to wonder. Do you?”

Dean blinked. “I don’t know. Sometimes, maybe, but Cas… if we have more kids, they’re not going to be like Asher. I mean, we were lucky with him. He hardly cried, the ideal baby, and that was because he is an angel. Literally. He absorbed all of your grace, so the new baby we’d have would be one hundred percent human. You see what Sam is going through, how tired he is, do you want to go through that? Again?”

Cas’ shoulders slumped. “So you have no desire for more children?”

“That’s not what I said. I said it would be different. It’s not a no, but I don't want you to have any ideals. We would have human babies, meaning more hard work and, let’s face it, we’re getting old. Getting pregnant in your forties has way more complications — you barely survived giving birth to Asher, and not just for you; babies could have mental problems, more health issues, and… ”

Dean trailed off. His mind began to visualise all the worst case scenarios that could possibly happen — the risks, the dangers, heck! He even remembered the fact that being older could cause another placenta previa. How could he not worry?

But Cas was watching the hunter intently. “You have thought about this,” Cas realised.

“Well, yeah,” Dean admitted. “Of course I have, I mean… Asher is pretty great.”

Cas smiled. “Do you remember when he first started to speak? The trouble he went through to pronounce his r’s?”

Dean had to laugh because he did remember that. He was only a toddler at the time, and he was still learning to talk. He was doing incredibly well, but he had one little problem when it came to pronouncing his own name. Every time he would try, he kept pronouncing Asher as ‘Ashew’. A process that created may giggles for his family, but was immensely frustrating on the baby. He never stopped until he got it perfect, and Dean was so proud of him for it. “How could I forget? For the first year of his life, it was non stop arguments about Mr. Kangaroo being Kangawoo.”

“And the time he panicked because he thought he had swallowed a frog?”

“Yeah, and he wouldn't believe me when I told him they they were only hiccups, and he didn't want to hold his breath because he was scared he would suffocate the frog.”

Cas smiled and looked down at Asher. “I miss those days.”

“Do you miss the sleepless nights?” Dean joked, but even that was half-assed. “Yeah, I miss them too, but is now the right time? Sam just had Beth, he needs our help and Asher is going to need us more the older he gets.”

“And like you said we are in our forties. We might not have much time left to make that decision ourselves.”

Dean didn't know what to say to that because Cas is right. They might not have much time left to decide on this.

However, their conversation was cut short by the arrival of Sam and Beth. She was quiet now, having been fed and was even tugging her own ear in her plight to stay awake.

They didn't stay much longer after that. They paid their bill and drove back to the Bunker.

 

* * *

 

The drive back home was steady enough to get Beth into a deep sleep. Sam thinks she will be out for an hour or two, so he might get some more sleep in the mean time. That was a good idea. The rings under his eyes were enough of an indication to how tired he was. That’s what having a newborn is all about.

Asher had woken up in the meantime and was rushing back inside. He was only asleep half an hour ago and now he was brimming with energy, Dean didn't understand it. He merely followed inside, ready to sit back and relax for the rest of the day.

But what he saw when they got inside was not something he was happy to see.

“Oh, come on!” Dean groaned. “I thought we got rid of you months ago.”

“I was expecting a better response than that. You need to work on your social skills,” Aphrodite practically purred. Her legs were swinging under the table she was sitting on, her hair conveniently covering the rest of her naked body.

“Yeah, ain’t that just, and please put some damn clothes on, you damn nudist!”

“Jeez, still a tight ass, huh?” But Aphrodite, with a swish of her hand, finally materialised a gown for herself and Dean relaxed. Well, as much as he could around her. She jumped back onto her feet and smiled. “I thought I would be getting a shower of praise for what I did for you guys. Even Asher is grateful for what I did.”

At that moment, Asher came into the room, with a drawing in his hand. “Here you go. I made this for you.”

“Aww,” Aphrodite gushed and kneeled in front of him. She took the drawing from his hands and looked at the picture. “Thanks little guy. I’m glad you're happy. So where is your cousin? I want to see my own handy work.”

And of all the times for Sam to make his entrance, it had to be at this moment. Cas was not too far behind, and even he was stricken by the sight of the goddess. Sam practically froze like a stone in her presence.

“Sam! Aren't you looking mighty fine this day,” Aphrodite exclaimed, but then her eyes fell on Beth sleeping in his arms. She practically squealed like a little girl. “Oh, my goodness! Isn't she just precious? All those months have finally paid off,” Aphrodite came closer to get a better look. Dean didn't miss how Sam inched her away, like a protective mama bear. “Wow, she is a beauty.”

“You probably say that to all the parents,” Sam remarked.

“No, I do not,” Aphrodite shook her head. “The amount of babies I have seen, I can tell you some of the ugliest creatures have been born to humans. So when I say you have a beautiful baby, you have an extremely beautiful baby. Don’t worry, honey, you will be breaking hearts in no time.”

Beth was still asleep in Sam’s arms, but Dean could see Sam was getting anxious the longer she spoke. He had to cut in. “Any reason why you're here?”

“Can’t I just drop by?” Aphrodite asked innocently.

“No.”

“Hey, I’m hurt, and after everything I did for you, as well,” Aphrodite didn't seem to hurt by that comment. Worse. She seemed humoured by it.

“You also didn't tell us what you did for us and everything. Or do you want to know what happened the night Beth was born, when you deserted us here?”

“Hey, I have my own kids. I don’t need the 101 on the basics of reproduction. Hello… fertility goddess,” the goddess shrugged. “I only did what you wanted.”

“I would've liked to have been told,” Sam gritted his teeth.

“Like I said to Asher…” Aphrodite pointed to the little boy.

“It would've spoiled the surprise,” Asher smiled at the fact he could remember it.

“That’s my boy,” Aphrodite clapped for him. “Come on, it’s not my fault you idiots were too moronic to figure it out yourselves. And deserting you guys in the Bunker? I have no idea what you are talking about. I did my job and that was it.”

Sam’s eyes flashed dangerously. “My daughter’s a job to you?”

“Again, fertility goddess! Jeez, I thought you were the smart one. At least Beth will have a few more brain cells when she grows up. I did you a favour! I don't know why I’m getting so much animosity here.”

“Yeah, knocking me up by a complete stranger, not telling me I was going to have her and deserting us in the Bunker to give birth, which could've ended horribly for the both of us. Forgive me if I’m not kissing your feet.”

Aphrodite didn't seem offended by outburst. She frowned, but Dean could see something else stirring behind her eyes. The humour was gone. “Stranger?”

“Yeah, it was strange, I—”

“No, no, no — what did you say about a stranger?” Aphrodite asked. She turned to look at Dean and Cas, hoping for and answer, but came up short. “Did the other guy not talk to you?”

That piqued Dean and Sam’s attention. “Other guy?”

“Yeah,” Aphrodite said. “Look, this wasn't how I was gonna go about it. I saw what you desired and I had a plan of attack. Trust me, I had found this woman. Beautiful, smart, blonde, just as you like them, and I was just waiting for the right opportunity for you guys to meet. Then, all of a sudden, this A-hole shows up, demanding to know what I was doing.”

“Wait, there was another guy? Who was he?” Dean asked.

“I have no idea. He wouldn't get off my case, he wouldn't take a hint, so to get rid of him I told him that I had a job to do. Then I mentioned your name and he got _really_ up in my face. That’s when he decided to help out.”

“Help out?” Sam asked.

“Yeah. Now that I think about it, he was really insistent. He threw out my blonde girl candidate for you and offered himself up as Tribute.”

“Tribute?” Dean asked.

“It’s a Hunger Games reference,” Sam explained.

“What’s a Hunger Game?”

“Okay, moving on,” Sam said. “Are you saying this guy offered himself to be Beth’s dad? Why would he do that?”  
  
“More importantly, why did you accept?” Cas asked.

“I was tired of waiting for the blonde girl. And besides, he was just as good as her. Brought out the best genes for your little bubba.”

“But why? You don't just offer yourself to father another person’s child, why would he do that?”

“Sam, calm down,” Dean stepped in. Sam was getting too worked up, even Beth was beginning to fuss in her sleep. “Do you know who it was? The other man?”

“He didn't give a name. Just helped out and moved on. I was glad for it, too, ‘cause he was a piece of work,” Aphrodite groaned, but stopped in her tracks. “Wait, there was something else. If you ever came calling, he wanted me to tell you something.”

“What was it?” Sam pressed.

“Look, I can’t remember. It was months ago, I had the spring festival, I had a lot on my plate. I think it was… joker? Clown? I think it was Joker. He said that if you guys ever asked about him, just say the word joker, and you would understand.”

Joker? What the fuck does Joker mean?

Dean looked at Cas to see if he knew what that meant, but he seemed just as confused. It wasn't until Dean looked over at Sam that he realised Sam knew who she was talking about. His eyes were wide and fearful, and he as looking down at Beth, as if discovering something that was staring so blatantly obvious in his face.

“Joker, or Trickster?”

And that was when the fear in Sam’s eyes finally reached Dean’s own.

 

* * *

 

“Sam, it’s okay. We will figure this out—”

“No, it’s not okay, Dean. It’s not okay!”

“Freaking out is not going to accomplish anything—”

“I can’t help it. I just found out that I have a daughter with a demigod. A demigod! Don't tell me we are going to figure this out.”

Aphrodite left awhile ago. She said this had nothing to do with her and quickly materialised away. Dean was grateful for that. The last thing he needed was that bitch getting in the way. Not when Sam was close to having a mini-meltdown. It got so bad that Cas had to take her from Sam’s arms and put her to bed because she looked close to crying. Sam was so far gone in his head that he was even pacing the Bunker like a caged animal.

Dean tried his best to get Sam to try and calm dow, but it was as useful as trying to tame a rabid bear. “Sam, it’s all okay. This doesn't change anything—”

“Yes, it does. It changes everything! He’s not a stranger anymore, Dean. He’s not someone I’ve never met — it’s Gabriel! We know him! We know what he’s like! What if he does something reckless and puts her in danger? What if she gets powers? Or worse? What if he wants sole custody of Beth? He could easily take her away. It’s not like I can hire a lawyer and take him to court. ”

“I don’t think that will happen—”

“How do you know?” Sam pressed, wide eyed.

“Because this is Gabriel we are talking about. Sam, if he was going to do any of that stuff you just said, don't you think he would've done it by now? Don't you think he would've said something, or taken Beth away already? Gabriel is not going to pluck her away from you. You need to stay calm and try to relax. I know it’s hard, but you have to do it for her.”

Sam took a deep breath, his eyes stinging from the unshed tears. “I can’t lose her, Dean.”

“And you won’t. Trust me. You won’t.”

And Dean hoped, to anyone who was listening, that he was right this time.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. This is it The end.
> 
> This was only meant to be a three parter here I am, nineteen chapters later, and we've finally reached the end. 
> 
> I'm kind of glad. This story has been in the making for a long time and the response has been mostly mixed, with some very negative response as well, and I'm looking forward to working on other stuff again. It's time to finish this once and for all. 
> 
> I'm not sure about the last chapter, but I'm at the point where I can't think of anything else, and so I'm leaving it like this. 
> 
> Thank you all for reading and I hope that you like it.

Beth had finally fallen into a deep sleep after the last hour Sam spent rocking her side to side and humming any old nursery rhyme he could think of, only to opt for a classic rock song because those were the only ones he could remember. It wasn't a normal thing to sing, but it did its job. Once her eyes were closed and she was snoring away, Sam waited a further ten minutes and then carefully placed her in her crib. Sam checked one more time whether she was going to wake up again, and sighed when she continued to slumber.

It was difficult to see in the room now that it was so dark. Sam couldn't risk turning the lights on, in fear Beth would wake up. He wasn't in a hurry to leave. Opening the door would probably shock Beth awake, and the darkness was making Sam feel sleepy. His room felt too far away, so Sam took a seat in the rocking chair. A quick glance at the glowing clock told him it was one-twenty eight.

He would wait here a few minutes. Beth would probably be screaming for him again soon, so it just saves time. Just a few minutes and Sam would finally rest in his own bed…

By the time it reached one twenty nine, Sam was already asleep.

 

* * *

 

Sam couldn't be sure what woke him up first. His sleep cycle has been all over the place since Beth was born, but he couldn't hear her crying or anything. From the deep breathes she took, Sam guessed she was still asleep, but something else was wrong. He could sense it.

Someone else was in the room with them.

Sam peeked under his lids. He had to squint but someone was leering over Beth’s crib.

Sam knew to move as slowly and as quietly as he could. His knife was hidden underneath the rug, just in case, and Sam slipped it out, stepping up and preparing to strike. He had his knife aimed high, over his head and ready to land down.

The figure didn't move. Once Sam was close enough, he took his strike, only for the figure to swirl around and grab the hunter’s wrist. “Whoa, whoa, whoa! Easy mama bear! Anybody ever tell you swinging a knife around is dangerous? There’s a baby in here.”

Sam knew the voice instantly. “Gabriel?”

“I was the last time I checked,” Gabriel quipped. He let go of Sam’s arm, and the hunter put the knife down on the side table. Sam glanced over at the clock; it was three-thirty. “And you look like shit.”

“Thanks,” Sam grumbled.

“Don't mention it.”

Sam couldn't be asked to put up with Gabriel’s attitude right now, but at least he was being quiet. Beth was undeterred from their little conversation and kept slumbering away in oblivion. That probably wouldn't last much longer. It was unusual for her to be asleep for more than three hours at a time, and Sam guesses she’ll be ready to scream the place down. But he had some time with Gabriel, although… he had no idea what the fuck he wanted to say.

Ever since Aphrodite dropped her little bombshell, Sam has been a little more stressed than he would like to be.

Could you blame him? He just found out he had a chid with an archangel/demigod, who has a penchant for inflicting physical pain and psychological humiliation, and he was more flighty than a bird with wings. Of course he is a little stressed.

But the longer Sam didn't hear anything from the archangel, the more he let himself relax. It was a dangerous mindset, and the last thing he wanted to do was get comfortable, only for the rug to be pulled out from under his feet. So he has a child with Gabriel. That would've been fine if he wasn't so… Gabriel. It’s just that Sam has no idea what Gabriel’s motivations are for doing what he did, why he wanted to help… does he want to be part of Beth’s life, or does he want to take her away?

The latter is what scares the most. And now that Gabriel is here… Sam doesn't know what to do.

Sam moves past Gabriel and leans over Beth’s crib, to bring her blanket further up. It didn't need to be done. It was something for Sam to do in an attempt t seem calm. Whether it worked or not, he wasn't sure. Gabriel didn't say anything and Sam has a feeling that he was going to have to start this conversation. “What are you doing here, Gabriel?”

“Can’t a guy just drop by and hang out with his baby mama?”

“You did not just call me baby mama,” Sam groaned.

“No, I called you my baby mama. There’s a difference,” Gabriel clarified.

“And that’s suppose to make me feel better?”

Gabriel shrugged. “Whatever floats your boat.”

If Gabriel was expecting a laugh from the hunter, it failed miserably. Sam was too tired and worried to find anything humorous. “You never said why you’re here, Gabriel.”

Gabriel’s expression immediately sobered up. “Do I need a reason?”

The archangel gave a glance into the crib and at the baby. It made the knot in Sam’s gut twist up even more. “No, you don’t.”

In the midst of their conversation, Beth began to stretch her arms above her head. The tiny movement was enough to make the two men freeze instantly, as if the most minute motion will ensure her waking up. It never did, though. Beth merely frowned in her sleep and relaxed back into position, slumbering away.

Even when they knew it was safe to carry on, the angel and the hunter still seemed reluctant to break the ice. Sam rested his hand over Beth’s belly, feeling her gentle chest rise with each breath. He couldn't take his eyes off her the whole time, but he couldn't keep the gnawing worry at bay. He had to know. “Are you going to take her from me?”

“No!” Gabriel almost shouted, but remembered himself in the last minute. “No, no, no, no! That — that’s not what I’m here for. Jeez, and I thought the Winchester insecurity was worse in your brother.”

“So I will ask again: why are you here?”

“Because a certain drama queen had to spill the beans and I’m here to do some damage control.”

“What?” Sam asked.

“Yeah, even in our younger years, Aphrodite was a crazy bitch, but she could be useful when needed. And let me tell you, no matter how great the sex is, it is not worth how clingy she gets the morning after—”

“I thought she didn't know you.”

Gabriel rolled his eyes. “When are you guys going to get the fact that I can hide myself? You think after all these years you would've gotten the picture by now.”

Sam shook his head. He was more confused than ever. “But what does that got — what are you talking about? What are you saying?”

Gabriel whistled. “The great Sam Winchester acting dumb? Wow, you must be really sleep deprived.”

Sam gave Gabriel a withering look. Now was not the time to tease him. “I have a newborn baby, one you put in me, apparently. Without my knowledge or consent, so don't judge me for being a little bit tired.”

Sam couldn't be sure whether it was what he said or the glare he gave him, but Gabriel finally dropped his attitude and backed off. “Too soon for jokes. Got it.”

“Good. Now can you explain some things for me?”

“Like what?” Gabriel asked with feigned innocence.

Sam had time to think about all the questions he wanted to ask Gabriel ever since he found out the truth, but now that he has the choice, his brain seemed to short circuit. Maybe it had something to do with the lack o sleep, but he ended up saying the first thing that popped into his head. “Why you did… I mean after… just why do this at all?”

This was the first time Sam had seen Gabriel look confused. He regarded Sam for a few moments. “Are you mad? I thought she was what you wanted?”

“She is, but you didn't have to… do what you did.”

Gabriel shrugged. “It wasn’t a problem.”

“It is a problem. Why did you do it? Aphrodite could've carried on with her original plan, but you had to step in. Why is that?”

Gabriel laughed. “You met her. Did you really want Aphrodite to pick out a random girl and make her fall blindly in love with you against her will? Does that seem fair to you?”

Sam sighed. No. It didn't seem fair.

“Besides, that girl she had picked out for you was into the creepiest shit. She wouldn't have been your type at all, so I see it as helping you dodge a bullet and a very expensive divorce settlement.”

“Didn't know you cared so much.”

“I do have a heart you know. And besides, it’s a toxic environment for Asher to grow up in.”

It was Sam’s turn to frown now. “Asher?”

“Yeah,” Gabriel muttered, suddenly taking interest in any part of the room that was out of his line of sight with Sam. “It wouldn't be nice to see his uncle go through such a difficult time of his life. I was saving him the backlash.”

Sam wasn't fooled, but what was the point of arguing? “Right. You were protecting Asher. Even if it meant making a child in the process.”

“You’ve seen the things I’ve made. A baby is the most innocent of my creations.”

Sam was just about to reply to that, but he was struck. He knew that Gabriel was responsible for all of this, for Beth’s creation, but to hear it coming from him is… it was the confirmation he didn't know he needed. “So she is yours.”

“Where do you think she got that chin?” Gabriel joked, but it fell flat.

“Did she get anything else from you, like angel abilities?” Sam swallowed. “Is she a Nephilim?”

“Technically?” Gabriel asked and pondered the question. “Yeah, she is, but you don't have to worry about crazy angels going after her.”

“That didn't stop them going after Asher.”

“Asher was different. He’s a fully fledged angel. Beth is only half angel. That’s not a very popular status among Heaven, and they would've found ways of dealing with her. Don’t worry. The rest of the angels don't care and the others were destroyed the last time I dropped by. They’re crispier than the insides of a deep fried KFC bucket. She’ll be safe.”

Sam nodded at that and felt himself slowly relax. “Dean told me about that, how you saved his life. What I don't understand is why you would kill so many of your own family in the first place.”

Gabriel stared at Sam for a long time, but the hunter couldn't get a read on him. The angel eventually dropped his gaze and picked up one of random objects strewn over the table and studied them. He was now scrutinising a tiny horse replica Dean had gotten Beth during their mad dash shopping spree the day after Beth was born. It was an ugly thing, hence why Dean bought it and Gabriel was fiddling with it like it was the most fascinating thing in the world. Sam must have really hit a nerve.

“It wasn't easy, trust me,” Gabriel finally answered. Sam waited for him to continue and the angel sighed and put the toy back on the table. “I’ve never exactly been the most reliable when it came to my family. I loved them. I love my brothers, my father, even after all of the terrible things that they've done, but that doesn't mean I liked them very much. I may have confessed to Dean that I might not have been closer to them than my brothers, but…”

Sam didn't need Gabriel to continue. He could guess the rest of what he wanted to say. Or didn't want to say. That’s why Sam didn't push him any further.

Gabriel took a deep breath and shook his head. “But after what I found out they were going to do… I had to make a decision. It might have been a hard one, but one I felt was the right one. I think you know what I mean.”

“No, I would never kill my brother,” Sam said.

“And there is the difference; me and my brothers and sisters are not as co-dependent on each other as you and your brother seem to be. Seriously, you guys are unhealthy in your attachment to each other.”

It was Sam’s turn to shrug. “Maybe, but he’s been there for me more than most people have been in my life. Even when I was guaranteed damnation, he did everything he could to save my soul.”

“And they lived happily ever after,” Gabriel joked.

“Says the guy who’s alone.”

And Sam found the one thing that got the famous archangel to shut up, but it didn't give Sam satisfaction he thought it would bring. “Gabriel, I’m sorry, I—”

Before he could finish his apology, a whimpered grabbed their attention. Beth was waking up from her crib, her tiny fists curling over her eyes. Sam was by her side and picked her up. It wouldn't be long before she went into a full on screaming session.

“Hey, oh…” Sam soothed. He brought Beth close to his chest, bouncing her around in a steady rhythm to help calm her down. “What’s the matter, huh? What’s the matter?”

Sam kept bouncing her around until her urge to cry was tampering off to a series of exhausted grunts. Beth’s head rested against Sam’s chest, her fist clutching onto as much fabric her fingers could hold. Sam as so caught up in watching Beth that he didn't even realise that he was being watched.

When he finally lifted his gaze, Gabriel was staring at them, with an unusual expression that didn't sit right on the Trickster’s features. It was too serious and sober for the fun-loving personality the hunter knew him to be. This evening seemed to be opening Sam’s eyes for many things and he wasn't sure how he felt about any of it.

When Beth was quiet, the silence was dragging a bit too long for Sam’s liking. He looked back at the angel, who hadn't taken his eyes off of the hunter and the baby. “Do you want to hold her, or something?”

Gabriel seemed to take a moment to ponder that, but ultimately shook his head. “Nah, I’m good.”

Sam tucked Beth closer to him, his hand playing with a lock of hair that was sticking out on end. “Thank you. For what you did. I know you didn't have to do it, and I know this might not be easy, but we can be civil towards each other. We might not be great friends, but we can be co-parents, can’t we?”

“Oh. Right, um…” Gabriel hummed, looking extremely uncomfortable. “Here’s the thing… do you really want me to be playing daddy in her life?”

It was Sam’s turn to look confused. “What?”

“Do you really want to be doing the whole weekend custody thing, and figuring out which holiday she’ll be spending with her parents? Because… I’m fine with not doing that.”

Gabriel was cringing and stuttering all over the place that it was hard for Sam to get his meaning across, but then his brain filled in the banks and his eyebrows raised. “You don't want to be involved? Why?”

Gabriel sighed, like the hunter was missing the obvious. “Sam, look at me. I’m a Trickster. I’ve never stayed in one place longer than a few hundred years, which is a short span of time in my life. I live for moving around and taking my sadistic pleasure on the prideful and the stupid, and that says a lot about me as a person. And don't get me started on my daddy issues. You really think I’m father material?”

“Gabriel, you can’t just have a child and walk out.”

“I’m not walking out. I’m just… giving her to her real parent. And do you really need first hand experience for you to figure out that I would be a terrible father? I didn't think so. Trust me, I’m irresponsible. I’m ridiculously irresponsible, I’m so irresponsible I’m sure that Dean and Cassie are going to skin me alive because I’ve taught Asher a few tricks that will turn his adolescence into their living nightmare. I’m not mature enough to be someone’s parent.”

Sam didn't know what to say because if he was going to be honest… Gabriel was right. Gabriel was an ass and he knew it — heck, he enjoyed it. His entire existence is being a nightmare to everyone else, so when Sam found out his daughter is Gabriel’s too, he freaked out more than he was willing to let on. And joint custody? Sam might have an early heart attack just by thinking of all the trouble it would've caused him.

Yeah, it would be difficult, but would it be as difficult as being a single parent? A single parent of a Nephilim, who might be more like Asher in more ways than one? That had the familiar panic rising up in Sam again. “But I can’t do this on my own.”

Gabriel’s voice was surprisingly gentle. “Yes, you can. And you are. Besides, I’ve been keeping an eye on you guys. I always have, and it’s not me she cries out for.”

“How do you know that?” Sam huffed.

“Because I’m an angel. I understand a lot more than you realise, Sam Winchester, and I wouldn't have given you this chance if I didn't think you were ready for it.”

Sam was silent at that. He looked down at the baby in his arms and watched her gum on her fist in oblivion to the conversation going on round her. “So why did you give me the chance when you weren't ready for it?”

“Well, I tried getting Pamela Anderson as a contender, but she was taken, so… had to improvise.”

Sam laughed. “Oh, improvise? Just another question; why did I have to give birth?”

“Couldn't exactly do it myself, could I? And I definitely wasn't going to do that again.”

Sam’s attention shot up. “Again?”

Gabriel laughed. “So much you don't know…”

“Still could've told me.”

“I did. You just didn't work it out.”

And Beth’s crying began afresh. Sam knew it was coming, she had been sucking on her fist and it had been awhile since she last ate. Her grouchy complaints were getting louder. Sam secured his hold on her and took a seat on the chair. He lay her flat in his arms, but he held off on unbuttoning his shirt. Gabriel was still in the room and he didn't really want to do this with an audience.

“Um, if there isn't anything left to say then…”

“Oh, sure. Sure thing,” Gabriel got the gist. “Well, I’m off. I might see you guys around in the near future, but I’ll keep an eye out. If you’re ever in trouble. Oh, and Sam? Don’t worry. You're doing great.”

And the archangel was gone. Sam would've had a moment to enjoy the silence of Gabriel’s departure, but Beth was squirming away and nuzzling into his chest if she wasn't fed this instant. He unbuttoned his shirt the rest of the way and let Beth ind what she was after.

Feeding her had gotten easier the last few days. Yeah, Sam still had to suffer through the uncomfortable sensations it brought, but at least he wasn't cursing away at the agonising sting that shot through him with every single feed. He could finally relax, into his chair, without wanting to peel of his own skin.

Maybe that’s why he missed it when Gabriel made an unexpected return.

“By the way!” Sam jumped at the archangel’s voice, so much that it made Beth startle. Gabriel grinned at the both and carried on. “You know, if you ever want to… I don't know, make more babies, we can do it the old fashioned way and bump uglies all night long. Actually, even if you don't want to make more babies, we can just practice until you're exhausted and satisfied.”

Yeah, Sam doesn't think so. “Goodbye, Gabriel.”

And Gabriel was gone for good this time. Sam wrapped an arm around Beth and sighed.

 

* * *

 

**One year later…**

 

“Asher, what did we say about flying in public?”

“But I was only doing it a little bit,” the little boy complained.

“I know, bud, but what did we agree on?”

“No flying around strange people or outside without permission.”

“So why were you doing it?” Dean asked.

“It made Beth laugh.”

Dean couldn't help but smile. “I know you don't like it, buddy, but it’s not safe to fly in public. People don't know you're an angel and we are keeping you safe by hiding it from them. D’you understand?”

Asher had his eyes downcast, and he shuffled on his feet. “I understand.”

“That’s a good boy,” Dean gushed and ruffled Asher’s hair. That mane of his was getting so damn long now, but the kid was too stubborn to let them cut his hair. If he’s going to let it get as long as Sam’s, then these two are going to need a serious talk.

The duo took their seat back on the wooden park table Dean’s eyes scanning around the area one more time before he could relax. No one seemed to be looking in their general direction, and no one seemed surprised or disturbed, so Dean took that as a good sign. He plonked himself down, sitting opposite Sam, with Beth on his lap.

Even as a toddler she is tall. She was standing on Sam’s thighs and was almost towering over him from where she had the extra leverage. Her hands were playing with the wisps of Sam’s hair, laughing away whenever Sam made a funny noise or tickled her where he was holding her by the sides.

“Dean, no one was looking,” Sam said in the midst of a funny face. “It’s fine.”

Dean scoffed. “Oh, really? Would you let Beth fly around in public?”

Sam brought Beth down for her to sit on his lap and picked off a few grapes for her to eat or play with. “Do not try and deflect. And you know perfectly well that Beth isn't old enough to fly yet.”

“Good luck when she does if she’s Gabriel’s offspring.”

Sam gave Dean a withering look. “Not helping.”

Dean took that as a victory because he knew well that judging by the mischievous glint growing in Beth’s eyes the last few weeks, one that always made Dean think of the Trickster, that Beth was not going to be an apple that fell far from the tree, if you know what he’s saying. And Sam knew it.

But Dean’s attention was caught up by Cas making his way back to the table, with four bottles of water in hand. For some reason he was still wearing his trench-coat in the summer heat weather, but he was insistent on keeping it on, no matter how many times Dean asked if he was close to dying of heat stroke. “The line for the drinks was long.”

“I said I would get them for you,” Dean offered once Cas sat down.

Sam groaned. “Dean, Cas can take care of himself.”

“I know, but I offered and it’s sunny outside, and I just wanted to make sure—”

Cas rolled his eyes and sighed. “Dean, I understand your protective nature, but your attention has made me think of a comment one of Asher’s friends mother divulged to me when she was expecting her children.”

“Which is?” Dean asked.

“I’m pregnant, not disabled.”

“Sorry.”

Sam tried to hide a smile from the two of them and kept his attentions on Beth. Cas unscrewed the lid of one of the water bottles gave one of them to Asher. The little guy chugged half of it down in just a handful of gulps.

Sam took the other bottle and began to open it for himself. “Don’t mind Dean, Cas. He's just playing father hen here. You got your doctor’s appointment tomorrow, right?”

“Nine a.m. sharp. Just to make sure everything is going okay.”

“And I’m sure it is. Now calm down and let Cas breathe.”

“I’m not that bad,” Dean complained.

“Yes, you are,” Sam and Cas said simultaneously.

Okay, maybe he had been that bad, but Dean couldn't help it. He and Cas almost gave up on the idea that they could conceive again. It wasn't going to be easy, they knew that, but they also knew that they were in their forties and baby making wasn't going to be an easy process. And it wasn’t. So when they decided to stop trying, Dean accepted it. Imagine their shock when Asher announced to the entire dinner table that he was going to be a big brother. Damn, that kid is like a walking pregnancy test.

It had finally happened, much to their surprise and delight, but that doesn't stop Dean from worrying. Birth complications, pregnancy complications, there could be something wrong with the baby, and also the fact that Dean was actually going to be there for the experience had Dean twisted up in knots. After all they had been through, after everything they have done to get here, Dean never wanted to take for granted that things were okay when he knew it could go wrong. But he wasn't going to walk away, no way in hell — he’s just can’t let himself shake off the feeling that something unexpected will happen, and that’s never a good thing.

Luckily, the others hadn't noticed his worry and Sam kept blathering away. “You’re worse than a grizzly bear over her cubs, only Cas is more likely to scratch your eyes out than a predator.”

Okay, Sam was enjoying this way too much for Dean’s liking, but he had the right arsenal that will wipe that grin right off his face. “How’s Gabriel by the way, Sammy?”

And just like he expected, all of Sam’s humour was gone. “How should I know?”

“You don't know?” Dean played coy. “Funny. I just noticed how he’s been hanging around a lot recently. Thought you said he wasn't interested in playing daddy.”

Sam shrugged and distracted himself by playing with Beth’s hair. “He isn't. Maybe he just doesn't want to be alone anymore.”

Dean narrowed his eyes. “Yeah, he doesn't like being alone. He likes company. Exclusively your company.”

“Maybe I’m just a person he relates to better”

“Yeah, sure thing, Uncle Sammy. By the way, we can see your hickey.”

Sam’s hand flew up the purple bruise peaking out of his high collared shirt, but Dean had noticed it for the last half an hour.

“What’s a hickey?” Asher asked.

“Uncle Sammy got a bruise on his neck.”

“Was he hurt?” Asher sounded worried.

“Nah, Uncle Sammy was playing a game with Uncle Gabriel — a grown up game, not a kid’s game — and Uncle Sammy got a little bruised in the process. But I don't think he minds, considering how he keeps asking Uncle Gabriel to come back and play the game again.”

“Also none of your business, Dean!” Sam chided.

Dean laughed. His brother was never good at hiding his nightly indiscretions from most people, but to Dean, it was pointless. He hadn't missed the fact that Sam has another hickey, faded after a few days and possibly more under his shirt. He also hasn't missed the fact that Gabriel has been sending his some over the top gifts recently, and judging by the expression Sam gives every time he opens them, they are not kid friendly. And Dean also hasn't missed the fact that he can hear Gabriel’s voice drifting from Sam’s room at night and some… other things he would not like to hear.

Come on, Sam might be a hunter, but he is no James Bond.

Beth is happily giggling in Sam’s arms, her brown eyes lighting up like she is in on the joke. It gave Dean a flash of Gabriel’s eyes like they were ready to make some trouble. Like father, like daughter.

Asher watched the display between Sam and Dean, a little confused, but he shrugged it off. “Dad, why do you and daddy have to go to a doctor? Are you and daddy sick?”

“No, we’re not sick, buddy,” Dean reassured the boy. “We need to go to the doctor and make sure the baby is okay. It’s like what we did with you when you were growing in daddy’s belly.”

Asher seems more confused by that than comforted. “But they’re fine.”

“We don’t know that, bud.”

“Yes, I do. They look fine. You don't need to go to a doctor,” Asher argued.

Dean didn't think much about Asher’s insistence, but he didn't miss how Cas still next to him in the middle of downing his bottle of water. He put it back on the table and leaned forward to look at the five year old. “Asher, why do you keep saying they?”

“Because there are two of them growing in you, daddy.”

Everyone stilled at that. Even Sam was staring wide eyed at Asher. Dean responded by laughing, maybe even part of a hysterical reaction. “Yeah, very funny, Asher.”

Asher shook his head. “I’m not lying. I can see them.”

“What do you mean you can see them?” Cas asked.

“Do you see them like how you saw Beth?” Sam asked.

Asher nodded. “I’ll show you,” Asher got down from his seat and made his way over to Cas. With his small hand, he placed his palm over Cas’ still flat abdomen, favouring one side. “My brother is here.” And then he moved his hand to the other side of Cas’ abdomen. “And my sister is here. I told you. There’s two.”

Asher was watching everyone as if he was expecting a great applause, but instead was met with a shock stilled reaction and wide eyed fear in his parents eyes. Dean looked over at Cas, Cas looked over Dean — they didn't need to look over at Sam to know what he was feeling. They were all basically thinking the same thing.

Four kids under the age of six, living in one house?

Lord, please have mercy on them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, all spelling and grammar mistakes are my own. I haven't proof read this yet because it's late and I'm tired. I might do it on a later date.
> 
> If you haven't review yet then heres your chance. I like to know what people think.
> 
> Thank you all and keep on shipping.


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